Last Dance of Chances
by Aina Song
Summary: What might have happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc attack...?
1. Rules of Combat

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter One - Rules of Combat**

He had not been in the city for longer than ten minutes, before he felt a very slight tug at his belt. His hand flying to his satchel of travel remedies, Jack Russell spun around and stared into eyes a richer shade of brown than his own. It was a girl, barely clad in short shorts and half a shirt. But then he blinked, and he saw that her shorts were deceptively armored, and her shirt was a delicate little blouse with a tiny green vest, both meant to show off her midriff. She wore leather boots that reached up to her knees, fingerless leather gloves with thick wrist braces, and a thick belt slung at an angle about her hips. From that belt hung a heavy-bladed dagger.

She met his stare daringly, and she was softly laughing at him. "Wow," she said. "You're the first one to ever catch me in the act."

Jack was at a loss for words. He knew that travel remedies, especially the rarer of those he possessed, could catch a fair price if sold. He did not question that one would try to steal them for just such an opportunity. And here stood an admitted thief, who seemed not the least bit concerned that he might report her to the guards for her attempted crime. But her smile was infectious, and he found himself asking, "What's your name?"

"Flau Demure," she answered, still smiling. "And yours?"

"Jack Russell."

"Jack, huh? Where're you headed?"

He paused, "Why?"

"You _were_ going to be my last hit for the day," she shrugged. "I've got nothing else to do now, and I'd like to see what someone quick enough to catch _me_ would be doing in the royal city."

Jack decided he liked her frank honesty; it was refreshing. "Then come with me," he offered. "I'm headed for the castle."

"Ooh," Flau playfully teased, falling in step at his side. "You're one of _those_."

"_Those_? _Those_, who?"

"You're hoping to be a knight."

He laughed. "Oh, that. Yeah."

She pretended to eye him critically, finally taking in the large sword at his back with the bundle of his belongings. "You don't look like much of a knight…"

Jack gave her a dark look, though her barb had not stung in the slightest. He could tell that she had meant nothing by it. "Sometimes, it's the least impressive that can surprise you."

Flau laughed, "Who told you that?"

"My sister," he admitted with little embarrassment. "I think it's her version of a pep talk."

They chatted like that as they walked through the city. Jack had never felt more at ease with someone in his entire life. But then, just as they were approaching sight of the castle, Flau hung back. Jack turned to her with a questioning look.

She offered a small smile, "I'm sorry, Jack. But this is as far as I go. I know I don't look it, but I _am_ a bandit. And those guards would just jump at the chance at one of us."

Jack felt suddenly reluctant to go any farther. He had promised to fulfill his sister's dream, of course, but here stood the potential for a true friendship.

Flau saw his hesitation, and she smiled, wrongly guessing the reason. "Go ahead. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Write me."

She paused, "What?"

"Write to me," he repeated urgently. "Even if I don't get in to the knights. I'll stay in the city and find something else to do."

A long moment's silence fell between them until Flau slowly asked, "And you'll write back?"

"Every chance I get."

She nodded, a small smile tugging again at her lips. "But we'll have to remember to never include addresses or current whereabouts. Just our names."

"But won't that still give you away?"

"No," she whispered, leaning close. "The Void Community planted one of our agents with the mail carriers years ago. That agent keeps a sharp eye out for letters to any of us, and snatches them out of sight before they're noticed. Then the letters are hand-delivered straight to our doors. No risk. But you have to promise to write first."

"I'll write tonight if I get in," Jack vowed.

"Deal."

~o~

Jack had been led down a number of corridors and down some stairs, until the guardsman leading him all but shoved him into a very large coliseum's antechamber. There were perhaps eleven others who had come to participate in the selection tournament; some appearing very serious, most looking quite dazed and uncertain. Jack found an empty bench, shoved his belongings under it, and sat down.

It seemed he had been the last to arrive, for the doors soon parted to allow another guardsman to enter and announce that the tournament would now begin. Names were called out, and two men stepped forward. The doors swung shut behind them. Their match lasted several minutes, and those waiting could hear the sounds of blows landing and metal clashing. When the doors opened to let them back in, one was only slightly limping, while the other had to lean on a guardsman's shoulder for support.

Another match was announced right away, between two men named Star and Paul. Jack stood as the doors closed behind them, turning to study a chart he noticed hanging on a wall behind his bench. It was a listing of the order in which the candidates would be fighting. A great number of the tagged lines had been left blank, revealing that there had been years in which the tournament consisted of much more competition than this one. He quickly singled out his own name, his index finger following where it led to his first opponent, a candidate by the name of 'Ridley.'

The second match ended rather swiftly compared to the first. From the way Star had waltzed out, even pushing Paul back so that he could go first, it was somewhat surprising when it was Paul that strode back in with nary a mark on him. When Star did not immediately follow, his assistant - a short, odd-looking fellow in a helmet - panicked and rushed in to retrieve him.

When all was ready, the third match was announced to begin: Jack Russell versus Ridley Silverlake. Though there was a large sword tied amongst his belongings, Jack instead borrowed a simpler blade from a rack of extra weapons standing against another wall. He turned back to the doors to find that his opponent was… a _girl_.

She was dressed simply - brown tights tucked into soft leather boots, and a dark pink vest over a billowy white shirt. Her hair was long and blonde and tied up in pigtails with pretty pink ribbons. Jack hadn't even noticed her sitting amongst the other candidates.

He tried not to let his shock show, reminding himself that he _had_ been taking lessons from his _sister_, after all. Sighing, he followed her into the coliseum, where they were met by a man named Junzaburo. He would be acting as a sort of referee.

"We are strict in our belief that these matches be fair for everyone," he spoke. "Basic attacks only, please. You will earn points for every hit, but a knockout will call the match. Please refrain from letting your anger enter the match, and remember at all times that you will be sparring before the eyes of the Prime Minister, himself."

Jack gave a curious frown, glancing about until he caught sight of a balcony from which two men could witness the entire tournament. One was a short, round fellow in blue armor; the other was a taller, bespectacled man in white. Jack and his opponent both bowed to them, and then turned to face each other. Jack saw that Ridley Silverlake held a poleax in both hands; very discreetly, he inched his fingers higher along the grip of his own sword to assure himself a better defense.

"Ready," Junzaburo shouted, backing out of the way. "Begin!"

Jack immediately began circling slowly to the left, forcing his opponent to do the same. He tightened the circle, carefully closing in on her, and watching her automatically mimic his every move. Finally, he paused and readied his weapon. She almost flinched at the sudden change, but then she was running toward him, lifting her poleax above her head. Jack swiftly brought his sword up with both hands, clenching his teeth when its blade cut into his palm under the weight of her blow. Next to the fiery pain of the impact, his blood dripping from the cut in his palm was like the ominous touch of cool water.

Feeling his boot inch back behind him, he pushed his opponent away before she could succeed in forcing him to give ground. She pedaled her feet back very quickly to maintain her balance. Jack shook his wounded hand vigorously to urge the numbness back from his fingers, and he knew at once that he would not be able to count on it to defend himself a second time. When Ridley came at him again, he swiftly stepped out of her path and lifted his borrowed blade to knock the blow away.

Jack did not attempt to strike at his opponent for several minutes, constantly rebounding his opponent's attacks away from himself and trying to recognize her fighting style before finally moving in. With but one good hand, his own style had been tragically limited, but he was determined to put his sister's many lessons to proper use. He stepped forth, his body following his borrowed blade in a complex dance it knew by heart. Ridley was suddenly on the defensive, guarding against his swift chain of attacks even as he was pushing her back toward the other end of the ring. Sweat was beading her brow; he could hear her breath hitch and quicken. Jack knew he would win.

But then Ridley surprised him.

She ducked low, avoiding his blade as she rolled along the floor. Pushing to her feet, she backed away until some distance had been put between them. Glowering at him, she lifted her poleax and then began to swing it with such force that her body spun with it in a blur. Two, three, four times she spun, and then her hands let go of the weapon. It flew, still spinning axe over pole as it cut through the air in search of its mark. Jack quickly brought his blade up and braced himself, but was still knocked off his feet with the force of the blow.

"Stop!"

Jack quite agreed.

Shocks of pain raced up his spine as he sat up and tried to stand. A guardsman and a healer were at his side in an instant; one helping Jack to regain his feet, the other swiftly bandaging his damaged hand. He glanced up in time to see Junzaburo, looking rather stern, cross the ring and berate Ridley for breaking the rules of engagement. Yet, for some reason, she was not disqualified. Both she and Jack were escorted back into the coliseum's antechamber, where Jack reclaimed his bench and checked his belongings while they waited out the rest of the tournament. Although the order of the trials had been to narrow down the candidates until a winner was declared, neither Jack nor Ridley were asked to participate in another round.

After perhaps two hours of waiting, they were finally asked to rejoin the entire list of candidates in the coliseum. The two men Jack had seen on the balcony were now crossing the ring to stand behind Junzaburo. The referee introduced the Prime Minister Salute Larks, who smiled reassuringly, and the other fellow in blue armor, who would be taking the day's new recruits under his command. Jack waited at the end of the line of candidates, cradling his bandaged hand close to his chest and wondering how he would explain it to his sister if he had failed, after all.

Larks whispered something into Junzaburo's ear, causing the man to stare at the Prime Minister for a long minute before turning again to the candidates. He cleared his throat, "The results of this year's selection trials have been compromised. Under my own watch, there have been several counts of poor sportsmanship. You have disgraced yourselves before the Prime Minister. Yet there is one who has shown potential - shown, despite how his match was ended, that there are yet those who still adhere to the rules of engagement as passed down by Radiata's first king." Junzaburo paused, giving quite a few of the candidates a cold look before clearing his throat. "Jack Russell, will you step forward?"

More than a little surprised, Jack nonetheless did as he was bade.

"Look at this young man," Junzaburo commanded the other candidates. "For those of you who hope to return and try again next year, I want you to make an example of him. This young man is the embodiment of the conduct expected of a knight."

Pushing past his embarrassment of the speech, Jack stared at the referee. "I-I don't understand. My match was annulled…"

"Yes," Larks himself spoke. "But your conduct and potential are precisely what make you unique. And that uniqueness is exactly what we hope for in every knight."

He and the referee turned and walked away, and the round fellow in blue armor from before bounded forth. "I am Ganz Rothschild, captain of the Rose Cochon brigade. Master Jack, after you have been shown to your assigned room, change into your new knight's attire and report to the brigade meeting room. We will hold the inauguration ceremony there immediately."

Jack smiled as the man bounded away, deciding he liked his new captain's childlike eagerness. Another man, introducing himself as the castle steward Al, approached Jack and led him away. As he followed, Jack glimpsed the girl Ridley being led off in another direction. And he wondered what befell one who would so blatantly ignore the rules of combat.

**Just a Little Note:** Usually, I don't approve of a rewrite attempt such as this. Too often have I come across attempts that were so poorly written I couldn't swallow more than five paragraphs. But this is one case in which I had to wonder. And rather than wait for a _decent_ attempt to come along - I seriously doubt it - I decided to have a go. Someone keep tabs on me; see if I can break the "eck" streak.

**Another Note:** The title, _Last Dance of Chances_, was in fact inspired by a beautiful poem by fantasy author Robin Hobb in one of her masterpiece novels. Its words nearly broke my heart to read them. To gain the full effect of the poem and its heart-wrenching message, I advise you first to read all three books of the _Farseer_ trilogy, and then read its follow-up trilogy, _The Tawny Man_. By the time you discover the poem in the final book, you'll understand exactly why I had to pay it tribute.


	2. Meant To Be

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Two - Meant To Be**

Jack tugged uncomfortably at the cuff of his sleeve as he followed Al up another flight of stairs toward the designated meeting room. He definitely did _not_ like his new attire; it was itchy as hell and made him look like an overgrown child. Though he _had_ enjoyed provoking his new roommate, Jack reminded himself with a slow smirk. Sir Leonard, a young man whose unfortunate fate it was to look ten years older, was just too eager to rise to the bait. And Jack had simply been unable to resist.

"Here you are," the steward announced, pausing in his steps and indicating a closed door some paces ahead. "Your captain mustn't be kept waiting, after all. And permit me one last time to welcome you to the Radiata Knights." Then, bowing, the man turned away and left to fulfill whatever duty next awaited him.

Suspecting Al only respected those he was required to, Jack shrugged and reached his good hand to the door's knob. Yet his thoughts were halted completely when he opened the door and saw who else was waiting for him in the meeting room.

She sat to the right of the small table, wearing the pink feminine version of his own new recruit's attire. Her blonde hair this time was tied up in red ribbons, and her dark green eyes only briefly flicked in his direction before ignoring his arrival entirely. Remembering her conduct in their trial together, Jack purposely chose a chair as far away from Ridley Silverlake as could be managed. But, since the table only seated four, this placed him directly across from her.

From the head of the table, Captain Ganz took note of his behavior and offered Jack a patient smile. "Yes, I know you must believe it unfair, Master Jack. But, as Lady Ridley is a member of the prominent Silverlake family of the Great Eagle of the North, the Prime Minister's hand was forced. Lady Ridley will someday inherit her title as monarch of her family, and will need extensive experience in a variety of training. Knighthood included."

Jack frowned, narrowing his brown eyes at the girl. "So she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth."

Ganz chuckled, "Yes, I suppose you might put it that way. But she does apologize for her misconduct earlier, and has given her word that she will not behave so in the future. Isn't that right, Lady Ridley?"

She lifted her head, finally meeting Jack's glare with one of her own. She was the first to glance away, and she whispered, "Yes, Captain."

Jack felt the existence of the girl's future title did not have to mean that he should so easily forgive her, but he grudgingly nodded his acceptance of her apology. He would see for himself whether her word was good.

Ganz Rothschild proceeded to make a long and heartfelt speech about his hopes for the success of their new brigade. His continued childlike excitement urged a small smile to return to Jack's lips, and he pointedly ignored his fellow brigade member to favor their captain with the attention he deserved. Jack made a single question about the definition of the brigade's name, but Ganz's reply to this was just a bit disappointing, as the captain did not truly know _what_ 'Rose Cochon' meant.

The meeting soon ended, with Ganz announcing that they must all report to the city's southern gate bright and early the next morning. They had already received their first assignment, and their captain was eager to see what they could do. Ridley said nothing, quietly leaving the room without so much as a backward glance. Jack stood too, reminding himself to find parchment and ink on his way back to his room, but his captain surprised him.

"A moment, Master Jack, if you will."

He waited.

Ganz came around the table, "That was a courageous act on your part to sacrifice your hand for your defense, and I commend you. I apologize that our first mission has come too soon for your healing palm."

Jack's bandaged hand curled in a loose fist at his side, and he stood his ground. "Sir, if you're suggesting I stay behind for this one, please don't. I know my limits; I know when to increase my caution."

The captain gave a kind smile beneath his mustache. "I don't doubt that you do. But, for now, perhaps you'll recognize the wisdom in these." And he brought from behind his back a pair of gloves.

Very surprised and humbled, Jack accepted them, noticing straightaway that these were not the padded cotton gloves worn by most novices. _These_ were true knight's gloves, cut from genuine leather; the only upgrade from these would have been the metallic gauntlets worn by knights in armor. Their palms were padded, only just enough so as not to hamper the movement of the hands as a whole, and their knuckles were studded with steel. Glancing at his captain for permission, Jack carefully pulled one glove on around his damaged hand. At first the bandages made it difficult, but he lifted his hand toward his teeth and bit through one of the threads knitting the inside of the glove's wrist. Living with his sister had taught him much he had never thought to learn about sewing and other such humble chores; it was no difficult task for him to determine which thread could be severed without unraveling the entire glove. He also knew how to repair it once the bandages would no longer be needed.

Tugging the other glove on as well, he finally looked up and met his captain's eyes. He let show all his gratitude as he quietly thanked Ganz Rothschild for the gift and the vote of confidence behind it, and then he turned away and retired to his room.

~o~

Jack knew he had an early start in the morning. But he also knew there was a letter he had promised to write, and a friend somewhere waiting to receive it. So, while his roommate slept on upon the top bunk, he sat at Leonard's table and wrote by lantern light. He told of his trial, in full detail, and of his surprising victory. He confessed his frustration that his opponent, who had discarded honor in favor of an unfair advantage, had also been let in on a technicality. And he admitted to an early admiration for his captain, whose childlike eagerness and kind honesty never ceased to amaze him. Lastly, he wrote of the next morning's assignment. He did not know what they would be expected to do, but he swore to give all that was in him into an effort to meet the already high expectations he suspected were aimed toward him due to his trial's unorthodox success.

Silently, thanking whoever had approved the notion that the postal service should be available at any hour of the day or night, Jack slipped out of his room and up to the first floor, to the recruitment lobby.

"A pen and an envelope, please," he softly requested as he approached the desk.

One of the men glanced up. "Bulletin?"

"Delivery," Jack corrected.

"Then you'll be wanting wax to seal it," the man nodded as he gave Jack what he had requested.

Jack folded his letter and slipped it into the envelope, tipping a burning candle over it so that a bit of wax fell along the edges. After it had cooled, he turned the envelope over and dipped the tip of his pen into a well of ink. He remembered Flau's warning about including addresses and other such specifics. So he scribed her name across the center, placing his own name in smaller print in the upper left corner. Gently blowing on it until he was assured the ink had dried, he handed the envelope to the other man and thanked him for the loan of ink and candle wax.

Though the hour was late and the man was obviously tired, he stood up from behind his desk and left immediately to bring the letter to the mail carriers. Jack knew its intended would receive it before sunrise.

~o~

It was decidedly late when at last he lay his head upon his pillow. He closed his eyes, hoping to claim as much rest as possible before his early start the next morning. Yet little more than an hour had passed before he frowned in his sleep and rolled onto his back with a small groan.

"_Well done, Jack," a whispering voice cut into his dreams. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."_

_A pair of eyes, more startlingly blue than any he had ever before seen, filled the vision of his dream, and in his dream he could not turn away as they slowly clouded over while the life drained out of them._

Jack jerked awake as a hand touched his shoulder, and he gasped for air. Eyes flying open, he turned his head and found that his roommate Leonard was kneeling beside his bunk with a guarded expression, a lit lantern casting its glow from atop the table behind him.

"Didn't mean to freak you," the other knight apologized. "But Al just dropped by to remind you that you're to report to your captain by the Lupus Gate in about twenty minutes."

Nodding, Jack sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Leonard reached out a hand, and he clasped it, letting it pull him to his feet. He dressed swiftly, his roommate helping him to locate his boots when it seemed they had disappeared. He had just strapped his belt about his waist and was digging into the bag of his belongings for his satchel of travel remedies, when he caught Leonard surreptitiously watching him from across the room. "What," he asked, tying the satchel to his belt.

Leonard shrugged, turning to face Jack fully now that he had been found out. "You just look paler than yesterday, that's all. Maybe you're sick or something?"

"I'm fine," he answered absently, tugging his new gloves on. Realizing he had still forgotten something, he bent across his bunk to find it.

"Well, you didn't look fine when I woke you. Nightmare?"

Pausing a moment, Jack only replied, "Yeah…"

"Wanna talk about it?"

Straightening, he shook his head. "Thanks, anyway."

Leonard watched as he strapped a strip of leather diagonally across his chest, hooking a simple blade to it behind his back. "That the same practice sword you borrowed for your trial?"

"Yep."

"They let you keep it?"

It was Jack's turn to shrug, "Spoils for being such a good player."

"But it's little more than scrap metal," Leonard chided. His eyes flicked over to the bottom bunk, where Jack's belongings was hidden between it and the wall. "Didn't you have another sword with you when you came in last night?"

"That belonged to my father," Jack patiently explained. "He was a knight, a captain of his own brigade. His sword was passed down to me, but I swore not to claim it as my own until my skills someday surpass his." _Even if the mere thought of it does sound impossible_, Jack mentally added, something his pride had not allowed him to admit to anyone other than his fair sister.

His roommate was quiet a moment. Seeming to come to a decision, Leonard turned and fiddled with a dark leather sack pushed back against the wall. "Here," he said, tossing something to Jack, who caught it upon reflex. "Buy yourself a better one, first chance you get."

Jack stared at the tiny pouch in his hands, hearing the promising clink of a handful of coins. Having entered the city without money, and remembering now his sister's decree that riches must be earned and not given, the new recruit sighed and tried to offer it back. "I can't accept this…"

"The hell you can't," Leonard softly insisted. "Weapons don't make the knight, but they sure don't hurt, either. Listen, if it makes you feel any better, you can pay me back when you come into some money of your own."

That option did make Jack feel better. Nodding, he tucked the pouch into his satchel of remedies and quickly left the room to catch up with his captain.

~o~

Jack raced through the streets of Radiata, suddenly grateful his sister had once forced him to memorize the entire layout of the city. Radiata was not an overly large city, but its streets were often crowded in places, which had the potential to be somewhat disorienting for a young recruit in a hurry. Just as the Lupus Gate came into view in the distance, however, Jack suddenly heard a sharp whistle. Skidding to a halt, he glanced around.

At first, it appeared as though he was the only one on the street. But then his quick eyes glimpsed movement atop one of the shops, and he turned his head to discover his new bandit friend waving down at him. Seeing that she had gained his attention, Flau Demure lifted one arm high above her head to show she fisted something, which she threw at him with slightly less-than-perfect aim. Stepping a little to the right, Jack caught the small parcel in both hands.

It was a ripe red apple, with a tiny scroll of parchment tied to its stem which read, _In case you skipped breakfast._

First the gloves, then the coins to buy a new sword, and now this? Generosity was bombarding Jack at every turn.

Suddenly overwhelmed, he looked up once more toward the shop's rooftop. Flau pointed toward the city's southern gate, then waved in farewell. Smiling, Jack waved back and sped off again in that direction, the apple fisted tightly in his hand.

~o~

His name was Clive.

He was dressed in novice priest's robes, marking him an apprentice of the Olacion Order. His brown hair was cut close to his skull, and there was an open - or blank - expression in his dull grey eyes. It was his goofy grin when introduced that nearly cracked Jack's resolve to be polite.

Clive confessed that, technically, he was still new to the Order. He knew only basic healing chants, and the only weapon he had been allowed was a tiny vial of snake venom. He explained that two drops and a fistful of clotted dirt made for a simple but effective poison bomb.

Ganz Rothschild strived to be supportive to the young man, though Jack could tell his captain was deeply disappointed. It was often that a brigade would receive the aid of one of the various guilds of the city. Yet it appeared the Olacion Order was the only one willing to show a bit of faith in the newly formed Rose Cochon. Though sending perhaps their worst member did not seem much of a vote of confidence, from where Jack was standing.

Captain Ganz revealed the nature of their first assignment. They were to travel to the dwarven village of Earth Valley. There, a dwarf would be waiting with a cartful of goods to deliver to the royal city of Radiata. Their objective was to safeguard that cart and its driver during its trip to the city. Admittedly, it did not sound like much of a mission. Ganz reasoned that as their reputation slowly grew, they might one day find themselves assigned with the glory-giving missions referred to the more popular brigades.

Jack did not complain. It was the prefect type of assignment by which to discover the brigade's individual strengths and how best to combine them.

And so they set out. Their way led along a much-traveled road, passing farmlands and winding around a small forest. For half the day they walked, encountering little trouble at all, before Ganz suggested a moment's rest. Clive immediately dropped to the grass, complaining loudly of his sore feet. Ridley followed more sedately, sinking quietly to her knees and laying her poleax across her lap. She gave all her attention to their captain as Ganz reminded them all that to test one's limits during a mission was often a most dangerous decision. Those were tactics best reserved for the training grounds.

Jack, having already been drilled with such pearls of wisdom throughout his childhood, turned away and studied the nearby forest. He recognized the color and texture of its trees, and he opted to take the chance given to him. "Ridley," he spoke, turning back.

Being so calmly addressed by the one member of their brigade that did not fully trust her seemed to have surprised her a great deal. The blonde beauty forgot her haughty attitude toward him, looking up with wide green eyes as she answered, "Y-yes?"

Reaching behind his shoulder, he pulled free his sword and offered its hilt to the girl. "Hold this for me?"

Looking further surprised, she took the simple blade and laid it with her own weapon upon her lap. "But, why?"

"I'm going to climb one of those trees," Jack smiled, pointing toward the forest. "The sword would only get in my way. And I'd rather trust it to you than to leave it lying about where just anyone could take it for their own or use it against me."

"Master Jack," Ganz Rothschild spoke up. "I hope you're not planning on straying too far…"

"I won't leave your sight, sir," Jack promised. He moved a hand to the satchel hanging from his belt, "As well as training to become a knight, I was apprenticed under a nomad healer. I don't pretend to have knowledge like his, but I do have more than enough to get by."

Clive looked up, staring. "You're a healer?"

Jack turned his eyes upon the young priest, silently chastising himself for bragging about mastering abilities before a novice who had yet to learn their existence. "I'm a knight," he corrected as clearly as possible. "Just one with a handful of extra skills to keep my comrades and myself out of trouble."

"Well spoken," Captain Ganz approved with a smile. "I do applaud that you seem to be a Jack-of-all-trades. But why this sudden urge to climb trees?"

"My supply is incomplete, sir. I'm lacking a few key ingredients to some of my stronger remedies." He turned again and at last approached the forest. "The leaves on those trees may have been at the bottom of my list, but I know an opportunity when I see one."

"But your hand," Ridley softly protested, giving him pause enough to glance over his shoulder. And it was her turn to surprise him by finally looking somewhat guilty for what she had done to him in their trial. "Won't you aggravate your injury?"

Jack glanced down at the hand in question. The gash in his palm was still too fresh, and too deep, to have much healed since the night before. He knew that. But the bandages still held fast around his hand, and the snug padding of his gloves kept him optimistic. "It should be fine, if I'm careful."

And so, suspecting their entire number was now watching him as he went, he grabbed the lowest branch of the first tree he came to and hefted himself up. Once he was aloft in the tree, he balanced himself and flexed his wounded hand. The bandages did seem to hold, and it was reassuring to feel a lack of new liquid fire. His wound had not been stretched open. He could do this. If he took it slow, and took constant care, his hand would know little suffering.

He looked up. The leaves he wanted were those that had just reached maturity, those that would cling to the branches for merely a few days longer before losing their grip as they slowly died. The very concept of it likely seemed impossibly difficult, but Jack had been taught to tell the difference. One had only to look to the veins of the leaves. If they were still a dark green, the leaves were too young. But if the veins were colorless and seemed to be leaning toward a blackened ash, they were too old. The leaves Jack was looking for would be brandishing veins of a strong milky white color, with just a hint of their earlier green in their stems.

Leaning his back against the strength of the tree, he began his search. He silently thanked his good fortune that the summer was still early in season. Soon he had filled a spare wax paper envelope and was tucking it amongst the other herbs in his satchel. Looking down, he saw that his branch was not too high up from the ground. And so, angling his body so that the neighboring branches would not hinder him, he jumped. He dropped heavily, knees bending and good hand catching the grass as gravity tried to punish him for his daring.

"Are you all right, Master Jack?" Ganz wondered, suddenly appearing at his side.

"I'm fine," he answered, though he accepted his captain's offer to help him to stand. Hearing more footsteps, he looked up to find Ridley and Clive had joined them. Ridley's mouth was tilted in a hesitant smile as she offered Jack's sword to its wielder.

It was a dramatic change from the superior expression she usually wore.

And Jack realized she was at last willing to strive to live up to the promise she had vowed the night before, to work together as the team they were meant to be.


	3. Life

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Three - Life**

Jack stood atop the cliff just as the afternoon sun touched the horizon, staring down at the valley below. Copper-colored mountainsides that glistened with veins of silver ore, surrounding a small village of buildings that seemed to have been constructed with sheets of scrap metal. Long elevated bridges stretched from areas of the village across great distances toward caves carved into the mountainside. Fumes of dark smoke billowed up from many of the houses, and even from where he stood Jack could hear the rhythmic clashing of heavy hammers.

His breath stilled in his throat; his heart pounded against the cage of his ribs. All his life, he had been raised amongst humans. The most arrogant of creatures, whose sole belief it was that everything worth having should be theirs and theirs alone. The race of warmongers whose very thirst for malice flowed in Jack's blood. And here before him was the civilization of smithies responsible for forging the very weapons and armor wielded by those same humans in times of war and vengeance.

Yet the dwarves were not responsible for how the humans chose to use their creations. The dwarves lived only to master their skills, striving always to forge better than their best.

Jack Russell was humbled.

Captain Ganz pointed their brigade toward a path which wound down the face of the cliff. Jack lingered a moment, his heartbeat and breathing slowly returning to normal. Was all he had been taught about the fairy creatures a lie? Did they truly seek to overthrow the humans for their wealth and power? Or were they like these dwarves, wanting only to be allowed a place in the world in which to live out their lives?

Sighing, realizing these were riddles that could only be answered with time, Jack turned away and followed after his brigade. They had already made it to the valley by the time he caught up to them, and were waiting for the dwarves' gatekeeper to let them into the village. Finally, with a metallic hiss, the gate lifted open. As they entered the village, Jack was once again struck by the earthy dignity of it all. He followed his captain toward the center of the village, and he could not resist a deep breath to try to absorb even the smell of the place into memory.

They paused before a building that seemed constructed entirely of gold. It seemed safe to assume the dwarves' elder lived there. Ganz knocked politely, waiting for an answer before opening the door to allow the brigade entry. Jack followed up a single staircase to the second floor, falling in line beside Ridley as before them their captain introduced the Rose Cochon (plus one) to Elder Gonovitch. After their presence there was explained, the elder requested one more small favor: To deliver a message to Radiata's king himself, describing an increase in prices due to a slowly growing shortage in mining ore.

Though he tried his best to remain impassive and let his captain do the talking, the news greatly distressed Jack. The ore that was cultivated and forged into their priceless weapons and armor, that silvery stuff that was the very blood of the dwarves' dignity… it was depleting?

After the conference was over and their brigade had been given leave to rest until the delivery was ready to set out, Jack bade permission of his captain to explore the village.

"Granted, I suppose," Ganz nodded. "But why?"

"I made a promise to my roommate to purchase a better blade at the first opportunity." Jack vaguely waved down the boarded path, "And I see a weapons shop, sir. Even if I can't yet afford anything they have to offer, it couldn't hurt to look."

Captain Ganz offered a patient smile, nodding a second time. "Well, Master Jack, as you seem to want to remain a man of your word, I believe there must be no other choice. But do try to report in to us at the inn before the moon rises."

"Yes, sir," Jack replied, taking the subtle order to heart. He watched as his captain led the others toward the aforementioned inn, then he turned and headed in the opposite direction. The shop he entered was predictably small, but not uncomfortably so. The walls were bare but lined with crates, each holding within a small number of the simplest of weapons.

Jack had never actually purchased a weapon for himself, but - once again, through his sister's widely varied tutelage - he knew how best to approach it. Passing the crates by, he crossed to the shop owner's table. "Excuse me," he politely addressed the dwarf, pulling his hands free of their gloves so that his bandaged palm might breathe a little. He fisted the gloves in one hand and then brought forth his simple sword from behind his back, setting it atop the table. "If you could help me to upgrade from this, I'd be very grateful."

The shopkeeper cocked his head at the blade for a moment, before commenting, "Little better than broken, eh?"

Jack felt his mouth tug in a slow smile. "You could say that."

"Hm." The dwarf took up the sword, hefting it experimentally in his small hands. He looked up, "Funds?"

"Limited," Jack answered honestly, shrugging. "I'm a new recruit, and on my first assignment at that."

"Skill?"

Here, he hesitated. His sister had always reprimanded that it was churlish to brag. "I can defend myself well enough. But the right weapon might help me to do so with better accuracy."

The shopkeeper seemed pleased with his reply. Setting Jack's borrowed blade down once more, he came around the table and led Jack to one of the crates. Briefly rifling through its potentially dangerous contents, the dwarf finally pulled out a blue-bladed sword and held it up. "This one only requires slightly higher skill than the blade you're giving up," he said. "It's light, handles easy…"

Nodding, Jack reached with his good hand to test the sword's weight himself. The moment his fingers wrapped around its hilt, however, he sucked in a hiss of breath and quickly drew his hand away. He stared at his hand, expecting the pads of his fingertips to be scorched red with the burn he felt pulsing under his skin, but they were only tinged a bright pink which faded even as he watched. Blinking, he silently questioned the shopkeeper with his warm brown eyes.

"Ah," the dwarf commented, looking somewhat chagrined. "Forgive me, boy. I didn't think to warn you, because very few humans are affected by it. Some of our weapons have been bespelled with elemental magic. This one is imbued with the water element." He studied the sword in his hand with a thoughtful look, then replaced it with its brethren in the crate. He shifted over to another crate, feeling around for a moment before bringing out a second sword. It seemed as light as the first, but with a colored blade that was closer to a pale purple. "Try this one, lad."

His still-tingling fingers whispered uncertainly, and Jack heeded their hard-won caution. He reached out more slowly this time, very carefully brushing the tip of only one finger along the sword's hilt to test it. When he did not feel that he was repelled again, he took a breath and let his hand grasp the weapon. An odd sensation prickled under his skin, crawling up his arm toward his elbow, but it was an almost pleasant comparison. Jack looked curiously to the dwarf, who beamed at him.

"That one doesn't refuse you," the shopkeeper confirmed. Turning away, he led back to the table. "You're quite the odd one, aren't you, boy."

"What do you mean?" Jack wondered, obediently setting this new blade down next to his borrowed one so that it could be compared and priced.

"I meant what I said about you humans being woefully unaffected by elementally magicked weapons," the dwarf patiently explained. "Seemed to have numbed yourselves to it over the ages, the lot of you. But _you_," he emphasized with an odd intensity in his eyes. "Now, _you_ are different. Not only can you sense the magic, you can _feel_ it, so much so that it looks as though your body knows which element it's most compatible to."

Jack wordlessly studied his new blade as it was skillfully measured under the dwarf's hands, trying to understand why any of this was significant. "You mean… If I strive to only use weapons imbued with this same element-"

"Wind, lad; that's the one that seems to like you best."

"Imbued with wind, then," he accepted. "But are you saying that such weapons will be most effective for me?"

"That I am. And I suggest you heed the same caution when buying armor," the shopkeeper nodded sagely. He looked up again. "But, for now, let's see if we can agree on a price you can afford."

He tried his bit at bartering, but in the end Jack walked out of the shop with a much lighter coin pouch. Yet he felt the strangest sense of elation, finding comfort in the new blade slung against his back.

Jack found the inn easily enough, and the room which Captain Ganz had reserved for their brigade. His captain and even Ridley greeted his return, and as he sat down Clive came over to give him some company. The first two continued their own conversation, but the novice priest looked on with interest as Jack very carefully unraveled the bandages from his hand. Jack eyed his palm with calculating scrutiny, cautiously testing the tender flesh around his wound. The cut had been clean; there was no threat of infection. A scar would probably remain, he observed dejectedly, but on the whole it appeared he would eventually recover his hand's full flexibility.

He could feel Clive's eyes on him as he brought from his satchel of remedies a simple healing salve. Jack tipped a few drops onto his palm, carefully rubbing it into the skin around his wound, and then very generously passed the phial to Clive so that the young priest could satisfy his curiosity. He dug into his pouch once more.

"It looks like water," Clive stated in wonder, swirling the contents about in the phial. Only its thickness and a few specks here and there hinted that much more was needed. "How did you get it so pure?"

"Its potency depends on your diligence," Jack advised, absently quoting his old nomad teacher as he unwound a long strip from a roll of bandaging cotton. "Grind the herbs into a fine white powder, with only a few drops of holy dew to create a paste." He wrapped the bandage carefully around his palm, using his teeth to split the end of the cotton so that he could tie it off. "And let it sit under the full moon," he added.

The young priest looked deeply disappointed that there was no great secret to it. He passed Jack the phial, watching as it was returned with the roll of cotton into the pouch. "I'm not permitted yet to borrow into the Order's supply of holy dew. And my room doesn't allow me a window to let in the moonlight."

"Travel more often," Jack encouraged, flexing his fingers to test his handiwork before finally slipping his gloves on again. "Go north of the royal city, until you find a lone tree atop a hill. It'll look dead, but don't let that stop you. Spend the night there; be sure to sleep with your head near the hollow of its roots. Wake up with the sun, and you'll find the grass around the tree wet with dew. Take only what you absolutely need, no more, or the magic of the ritual will never work for you again."

Clive was not the only one to hear his instructions. Captain Ganz and Ridley had paused to listen, as well. "Do you speak of the Ressan Tree," the captain inquired.

"I didn't know it was called that," Jack admitted. "But I think so."

"Intriguing," Ganz smiled. "The Ressan Tree was once rumored to be the sight of many wrongful hangings. It's something of a relief to hear of holy dew appearing at its roots. Almost as though it has forgiven the deeds of the past and is letting the world know of it."

There came a knock on their room's door, and when the captain answered it they learned that their client was ready to transport his cargo.

~o~

Long after the moon had set the next night, Jack wearily dragged his feet along a corridor of Radiata's royal castle, a sheet of parchment rolled up in his loose fist as he sought the first floor lobby. The Rose Cochon had only returned from their mission in the past hour, and he was insufferably tired. But he had made a promise. Somewhere in the city, perhaps herself deeply asleep, Flau Demure would be awaiting his letter. Waiting to hear of his return, to hear of the success of his first mission. And Jack felt very reluctant to disappoint her.

The same clerk as before looked up upon his approach to the desk, mouth tilting in a small smile as his wrinkled eyes flashed with recognition. "We're not going to turn this into a habit, are we, boy?"

"I sincerely hope not, sir," he replied politely as he set his rolled-up letter before the older man. "I'm not as fortunate as you to have someone take my place at the end of my shift."

The man's expression turned to one of shared sympathy. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I, myself, would give near anything to swap shifts with a day-worker. My child's growing up without me, and a day-worker's hours are shorter. But you… A knight's schedule must require him to sacrifice an unfair amount of sleep. Late to bed, early to rise…"

Jack Russell bit his tongue, not wishing to say anything against his captain. After a moment, he finally trusted himself enough to answer, "I knew what I was getting into when I entered the selection trials. I'm dedicated, sir, and I truly wouldn't have it any other way. But I _am_ looking forward to some rest before my next assignment."

"Then I wish you all the best of luck toward that," the man nodded, at last passing Jack an envelope for his letter.

Jack scribed Flau's name across the envelope, adding his own in a corner, and then sealed it with wax before returning all to the clerk and thanking him for his trouble.

Long minutes later, he very quietly closed the door to his room, careful not to wake his roommate, who seemed to have been kept just as busy in Jack's absence. Jack stripped down to his cotton underclothes and peeled back the covers to the bottom bunk, crawling in. He was asleep seconds before his head hit the pillow. And his slumber was plagued by dreams almost instantly:

"_Well done, Jack," a deep, whispering voice praised behind his shoulder. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."_

_Startlingly blue eyes turned in his direction, narrowing in an attempt to focus beyond the pain clouding their color. Below, finely carved lips parted with a shuddering breath, moving as though to form words._

_Jack's heart raced, thundering within his ribcage, though he could not say why. Yet he felt himself drifting closer, unable to look away from those eyes. He felt compelled to answer whatever question those eyes were asking of him. He opened his mouth, unknowing as to what he might say…_

Jack awoke with a start, rolling over to his side and swinging his legs over the side of his bunk so that he could sit up. His heart was racing again, just like it had in his dream, and he had to fight to catch his breath. He doubled over, catching his head in his hands, staring down at the floor. He was almost afraid even to blink, knowing that if he did those eyes would still be there. Waiting for him.

He had never had a repeated dream before. Especially not the same one twice in a row. Jack nearly blessed his lack of too much rest during his brigade's mission to Earth Valley - he doubted he would have been able to concentrate if that dream had come upon him then.

"Jack?"

He looked up. His roommate, Leonard, was leaning over the edge of the top bunk, staring down at him curiously. "You okay?"

"No," he sighed, looking away. Tunneling the fingers of his good hand through his hair, he gripped his skull and wished above all that he could blame it on a headache or some other ailment. "I had that same dream…"

"The one you won't talk about?"

"Yeah."

Leonard was quiet for a moment, before finally offering, "Need a distraction?"

"Like what," Jack wondered, glancing up again.

"Spar me."

"What?"

"Spar me," Leonard repeated, pushing away from the edge of his bunk to sit up. "You don't look like you want to go back to sleep, and I had a good six hours already. The training wing is always available; get dressed, and I'll take you there."

Finding no reason to argue, Jack donned his clothes and shoved his feet into his boots. Tugging on his gloves, he reached over the far side of his bunk and grabbed his sword. Leonard was already dressed and waiting outside the door; his eyebrow lifted as Jack came out into the corridor.

"I see you took my advice," he commented, nodding toward the weapon in Jack's fist. "Where'd you get a blade like that?"

Jack mouth lifted in a wry grin. "Earth Valley. It's only a small upgrade from the one I had, but it's in much better condition." His fingers fidgeted around the sword's hilt, and for a second he thought he felt a tiny spark of its elemental power prickle up his arm in response. His smile widened just a fraction, "I don't think it will let me down."

And so it was that Jack Russell spent the next several days (and almost as many nights) honing his skills against his roommate. Eventually Ridley wandered in on them one day, and Jack felt it only polite to invite her to join in. In the end, even Captain Ganz had found them. Leonard bowed out after that, asking Jack to seek him out when they could spar again alone. Jack watched him go, understanding instantly. With the captain present, their time there was now Rose Cochon unit training. At last, they were tuning themselves against each other, discovering how best to divide or multiply their strengths.

Jack's hand eventually healed enough that it no longer required bandages. The skin of his palm was unbroken, strong… but still it bore signs of scarring. Yet he smiled as he repaired the threads he had once severed in his glove - his captain had good-naturedly chided him to practice more caution, or the next time he might lose his hand altogether.

Jack knew better than to deprive himself of as much sleep as he could grasp. He tried every night to capture a decent amount of rest. But it was becoming increasingly difficult. He both dreaded and anticipated seeing again those eyes, those startlingly blue eyes. Anticipated, because he had never in his life seen eyes so pure. Dreaded… because it was never long before those eyes were drained of life…


	4. Canopy of the Forest

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Four - Canopy of the Forest**

Jack groaned one afternoon as someone pounded heavily on the door to their room. Leonard dropped his quill into its inkwell, casting his young roommate an apologetic glance as he straightened away from the table. Jack could hear the door creaking open, and Leonard softly presuming, "Come to tell me Captain Natalie's looking for me again, Al?"

"No, Sir Leonard," replied the voice of the castle steward. "In fact, I'm here for Master Jack. Is he in?"

"He's unwell," the knight answered shortly, his good humor swiftly giving way to hints of impatience. "Is it urgent, or can you leave a message?"

There was a slight pause, as Al seemed to think that over. Finally, "He isn't needed immediately, I suppose. The Rose Cochon are being called for another mission, and Captain Ganz wanted to meet with both his subordinates to discuss the details."

Jack suppressed a second groan, lifting his arm to press the fingers of his hand against his temples. Leonard glanced over his shoulder at the very slight sound of movement, and Jack returned the glance under the shadow of his hand. Sighing, Leonard looked forward again. "When's the mission?"

"I believe it's to be tomorrow morning. Early."

"Let Jack's captain know that he's a little too under the weather for the meeting. But, with enough rest, he should recover in time for the mission tomorrow." And, without even waiting for an answer, he shut the door and turned away.

With a small whimper, Jack draped his arm across his eyes. His head throbbed, and the muscles of his back ached terribly. Blindly, he reached with his other hand into the space between his bunk and the wall. His fingers rummaged a bit until they grasped his remedy pack. Heaving it onto his stomach, he lifted his arm away from his eyes so that he could see what he was looking for. Healing salves, various poison antidotes, bandage roll, curved needle and thick thread in case a wound needed stitching… Countless ingredients for rarer and more potent remedies…

"I don't believe it," he quietly moaned. Tying the satchel together again, he shoved it away from him, wincing as it fell loudly atop the bag of his other belongings. Rolling to his side, he cast his eyes across the room. Leonard had returned to the table to continue his report under the muted light of a lantern.

"What's wrong," the older knight whispered without turning around.

Jack sighed, closing his eyes against the soft light playing across his face. "Mint drops."

"You're out?"

"I never run out. If I can't find them, it means I never thought to stock them."

Leonard whistled, sympathetic. "How could you have overlooked something so common? I mean, _you_, with all those other remedies I'd only ever heard of…"

Jack bit his lip. Having to admit his mistake the first time had been difficult enough. But before he could say anything, his vision blurred, and the room spun about before his weary eyes. The muscles around his spine pinched painfully, and he ground his teeth with a low hiss, fighting back a sickly urge to attack the only other living thing in the room.

_Damn._ Battle confusion.

Though Leonard and he had only been sparring that morning, Jack had received an unexpectedly direct blow, and had become disoriented almost immediately. Leonard had been completely apologetic, but Jack had only waved away his roommate's guilt, pleading to be taken somewhere he might rest awhile to gather his wits.

He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew Leonard was gently shaking his shoulder to wake him. He whimpered, too tired and lightheaded to even open his eyes. The older knight carefully rolled him again to his back, callused fingers hesitantly brushing across Jack's lips to urge them to part. Something cold and wet dripped onto his tongue and rolled toward the back of his throat; Jack automatically swallowed, then coughed as the potency of what he had consumed flared up in his lungs and within his skull.

"Sleep," he vaguely heard his roommate urge. And he saw no reason not to.

~o~

When he awoke the next morning, Jack lay still a moment, feeling something was missing. He marveled that he could think clearly again, and a glance toward the table confirmed his suspicions that Leonard had purchased for him a phial of mint drops from the castle's supply shop. Yet another favor Jack would owe his roommate.

He sat up slowly, carefully swinging his legs over the edge of his bunk. It was then that the missing puzzle piece clicked in his mind. The dream… He had slept the entire night, and the afternoon before, and yet those hauntingly blue eyes did not visit him throughout the whole of it. But, rather than feeling relieved, Jack knew only a terrible sense of emptiness and a cold dread that he would not receive another chance to discern whatever message those eyes had been trying to tell him.

He readied himself to report to his captain. He dressed quickly, shoved his feet into his boots, and strung his new blade behind his back. As an afterthought, he grabbed the phial of mint drops from the table and tucked it into his satchel of remedies on his way out the door.

Jack's mind wandered as he navigated the corridors of the castle. He could not understand why he should feel so disturbed by the dream's absence. It was almost as though somewhere in the darkest recesses of his mind, he _knew_ that he might never see those eyes again.

"Jack?"

Startled, his steps halted and he looked up. Ridley Silverlake had just stepped out from the brigade meeting room, and she seemed quite surprised to see him. Jack looked over her shoulder; Captain Ganz had gone a few paces ahead of her, but now he turned back.

"Master Jack," the captain greeted, a smile playing under his mustache. "We'd heard you weren't feeling well."

Jack dipped his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, sir. I was a little too disoriented yesterday, and I knew it wouldn't be wise to join the meeting."

"But you feel well enough for the mission, do you?"

His scarred hand curling into a loose fist at his side, Jack took a breath and strove to remain honest. "Well enough, Captain. I give you my word to step aside and out of the way if I feel I can't handle whatever it is we're about to do."

"Ah," Ganz nodded. "Yes, of course you'll need a brief detailing of the mission. To put it simply, we'll be delivering a royal missive into the elflands."

Though he could not guess why, Jack's heart missed a beat. "Elflands, sir?"

"Yes. To the leader of the light elves, himself. However," the captain sighed, "this will likely be very difficult. The elves are very mistrustful of the human race, and will not permit us within their territory willingly. Therefore, along our journey, we will meet up with a member of the Vareth Institute. He's rumored to be an authority of sorts."

~o~

This one introduced himself as Genius Weissheit.

While he was busy explaining to their captain how very vast his intelligence was, and how every minute he spared for their mission distracted him from weeks' worth of scientific breakthroughs, Jack noticed a strange look flit across Ridley's face. He discreetly shifted closer to the blonde beauty, "Hey…"

Her dark green eyes flicked over to him very briefly, before returning their gaze forward. "Hey," she answered as softly.

"So," he ventured. "Am I the only one who thinks this guy's gears are strung too tight?"

Her mouth twitched, as though she was suddenly trying very hard not to smile. "If we didn't have to work with him," she whispered, "I wouldn't want to hang out with the guy."

Jack quickly lifted a gloved hand to his mouth to smother the urge to laugh aloud.

They had had to meet Genius outside his home, which conveniently lay on the very outskirts of the elflands. It was a brief enough walk after that to the hidden entrance to the light elf haven. They stood before a cliff, wherein lay a deep crevice. Genius explained, and quite haughtily too, that the light elves protected their secrets with every devotion. If any human did happen to discover the entrance into their haven, awaiting the unfortunate trespasser would be two deadly gatekeepers.

It were those gatekeepers that swooped down before their brigade now, looking unearthly beautiful but also somewhat menacing. The two light elves - one male, one female - were very brusque in their warning. They definitely did not want visitors; they would not even hear out Genius' plea.

As his brigade could not help but be turned away, Jack dared one more glance over his shoulder. Curiously, he had not felt threatened by the two guarding their haven. He had only felt… humbled. As he had in Earth Valley. The dwarves had had their mountain and their diligence in weapons-forging. The light elves, it seemed, were possessed of a fierce loyalty - to their secrets, and to one another.

They retreated to a bridge that had been comprised from a fallen redwood. Jack did not refuse the opportunity, quietly requesting of his captain whether he might sit and rest. Ganz gave him the moment he needed. While the captain confronted Genius on why they had not been allowed into the light elf haven, Ridley moved closer and casually sat down at Jack's side.

The blonde beauty gave Jack a solemn glance. "Are you all right? Our journey here was demanding, and I'd have thought you'd ask for rest before now…"

He turned to her in mild surprise. Her bright green eyes watched him with shy concern; he offered a small smile. "Don't worry. I've been pacing myself."

"You could've asked before now," she softly insisted. "The captain would've understood."

"I know," he nodded. "Really, I'm not suicidal. But I won't hold my captain back, either."

Ridley seemed to study him for a moment. She asked, "You're truly devoted, aren't you?"

"My father was a knight," he confessed. Glancing down and away, he explained, "He'd died one month before I was born, but my mother used to tell me stories. They'd inspired my sister and me to make something of ourselves. Adele had promised our mother not to join the knights, but she and I trained together anyway. And she studied some with me under the guidance of that nomad healer I told Clive about." He looked up again, "She stayed home; she'd said the village could use a healer in my absence, and _I_ should be the one to become a knight in her place."

"Did you not want to be a knight?" Ridley almost-whispered.

He considered, but replied honestly. "I wanted to prove myself. My academic studies were mediocre, at best. I had no aptitude for pig farming, or fishing, or preserving milk products…" His mouth tugged in a small smirk, "I had no niche in the world. But then the nomad came to us, and I drank in his wisdom like a man parched."

"You could've stayed at home," she suggested.

Jack's smirk faded, and he shook his head. "No. When Adele had given our mother her word, it almost killed her. I let her train me, because it put the life back into her eyes to put her knowledge to use. I went to the selection trials, because she couldn't. Our father's blood runs in my veins as much as in hers. If she could become a knight, she would've. I wasn't about to disappoint her by staying at home."

"But-"

"Ridley," he cut in, meeting her gaze directly. "I can be a healer anywhere. But I can only be a knight under the king's command, and to do that I had to come to Radiata."

Captain Ganz patiently brought his brigade to order. "We're off to the Nowem region, the other half of the elflands," he announced. "Master Genius seems convinced that the dark elves there will give us a warmer welcome. Perhaps we might propose our missive to _their_ leader and try again."

~o~

Nowem region was a realm of much wonder. Its forests were vast and beautiful to the weary eye. Jack stared up at the ever-reaching branches, marveling that the day seemed to have rewound itself - bright orange sunlight streamed through the canopy of the branches, giving the illusion of late afternoon, when outside the forest it was closer to early night.

The ground was blanketed with golden amber leaves, and leaves of emerald and ruby waved gently on the winds from the trees' branches. Some few handfuls would ride a calm breeze toward their brethren on the ground.

Ganz Rothschild caught Jack's awed expression, and an understanding smile spread beneath his mustache. "Yes, it _is_ beautiful, isn't it."

"The dark elves live close to the land," Genius explained, his tone for once devoid of any superiority. "They work hard, play hard, and enjoy life to the fullest."

"Is that so?" The captain commented, "Well, that's a life to envy, don't you think?"

Jack said nothing, but in his heart he wholly agreed. He fell in step at Ridley's side as their brigade ventured further into the forest, letting his eyes roam over every detail they could find. He opened his mouth and breathed deep the scent and taste in the air - earth, smoke, and remembered rain, all rolled into one heady cocktail that was soon put to shame as they neared their destination.

The trees of the forest were quite large and tall. Yet their brigade paused before one that stood larger and taller than them all. Jack wondered at the spicy sweet scent that now dominated the air. Almost like sun-kissed berries, but… thicker, somehow…

A pair of doors had been carved into the tree's very broad trunk, and beside them stood an ashen-skinned youth with blond-streaked brown hair which fell over his dark blue eyes. The boy studied them each in turn, but amazingly found a smile upon recognizing Genius Weissheit.

"Hello, Mikey," Genius greeted, stepping forward.

The young dark elf's smile widened. His eyes swept over their brigade one more time, and then he pulled one of the doors open, allowing them entry. Jack met the boy's gaze as he followed his captain in; Mikey returned his look quietly, as though contemplating what he saw. Jack suspected it would not be the last time their paths crossed.

Lord Nogueira, the dark elf leader, was not himself a dark elf. He was a light elf, winged and as bright-skinned as had been the two warriors that had safeguarded their haven. Yet this light elf was patient and soft-spoken; he listened well to Genius' explanation and to Ganz's plea. His agreement to let the Rose Cochon deliver its missive came with but one term. He would send a dark elf to the City of Flowers, that elusive light elf haven, to seek audience with their elder. He offered food and rest to Ganz's brigade while they waited for a reply.

Jack joined Ridley in taking a small meal to replenish his energy. Catching sight of a large silver pitcher standing in the center of a circle of cups, he abruptly identified that heady and intoxicating berry scent he had sampled outside. Wine. Rich, dark, and red - all the scents and flavors of the forest, poured into a liquid only the dark elves could so purely cultivate.

Jack did not sample of the tempting liquid; it was alcohol, he was underage, and he was with his brigade in the midst of an assignment. But he made a mental note. In his heart, he had already vowed to return to Earth Valley when he was no longer a novice and would be free to do so. Perhaps he should return here as well. Someday.

After the meal, it was rest, and Jack did not hesitate. He claimed one of the rooms that had been prepared for the Rose Cochon, dropped immediately onto a lower bunk, and closed his eyes. He was asleep before the door had swung shut behind him.

~o~

_A deafening roar filled the skies as the dying beast fell between the cliffs, and Jack could not help a shudder as he heard its corpse crashing among the rocks below. He turned away._

_A gauntleted hand fell heavily upon his shoulder. "Well done, Jack," a deep voice strongly praised behind him. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."_

_Startlingly blue eyes turned in his direction, narrowing in an attempt to focus beyond the pain clouding their color. Below, finely carved lips parted with a shuddering breath. And the voice that whispered through them had lost nearly all of its lyrical strength, barely any music flowing with its words. "D-did you say… C-Cairn…?"_

"Jack!"

He started awake as another's hand lightly shook his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he looked questioningly at the blonde beauty leaning over him. "Ridley? What's wrong?"

"The messenger Lord Nogueira sent has returned badly injured," she quickly explained, backing away to give him room. "The captain is ordering us to make ready."

His head spun as he sat upright, and he reached into the satchel hanging from his belt, silently blessing Leonard as he found the phial of mint drops. He tipped the phial into his mouth, mentally counting three drops before swallowing. Their potency immediately flared within his lungs, and he coughed into a gloved hand even as he felt his head begin to clear. "Why are we making ready?" He asked, returning the mint drops to his satchel.

"The messenger was supposed to have returned with a light elf," Ridley revealed. "But they'd been attacked by blood orcs, and the light elf was captured. I think Captain Ganz feels responsible."

Jack frowned, straightening to his feet and strapping his wind-imbued blade behind his back. He, too, believed it unfair that either elf had had to suffer for their sakes, but… "He's not thinking we can _win_ against blood orcs, is he?"

"I don't know. Maybe he only wants to give the light elf a chance to escape."

That sounded like a more reasonable option. Jack nodded to it, following Ridley out the door.

~o~

The blood orc they found was monstrously large, and in a temper. It was not going to give up the light elf without a fight. The Rose Cochon surrounded the creature, attempting to subdue it quickly. But the blood orc fought back with a madness that put smilodons to shame.

It aimed a particularly vicious swing in Jack's direction. Jack, not yet fully recovered and already tiring, could not defend himself. He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and collapsing to his knees even as the blood orc's club came whistling toward him. At the last second, Ridley was there - she had leapt into the club's path. The force of the club's swing threw her across the clearing; her back slammed against the bark of a tree, and she slumped unmoving to the ground.

Jack's lungs turned to ice behind his ribs. "Ridley!"

"Master Jack, watch out!"

Without looking up, he instinctively rolled to the side, only narrowly avoiding the blood orc's club as it clashed to the ground in the very spot he had just abandoned. The club arched up but came down again. Jack had little choice but to roll again, even as he could hear footsteps racing toward his aid.

"Stand back," rang Lord Nogueira's voice in warning. In the next instant the clearing was flooded with light, and the blood orc's angry roars cut off with a disturbingly pained cry.

Jack blinked furiously as the clearing came again into focus, and he spared only a moment to stare at the lifeless blood orc on the ground. But then Genius Weissheit was at his side, helping him to push unsteadily to his feet, and together they stumbled over to where Jack had seen Ridley fall. Ganz was there already, kneeling down to feel for Ridley's pulse and to check for any broken bones.

Jack urged Genius to let him sink to his knees at Ridley's other side. He stared at the lack of color in the blonde beauty's face. "How is she," he demanded of his captain, even as his own healer's hands ran an inventory of their own.

"Not good," Ganz Rothschild solemnly answered.

Jack hated that he was forced to agree. With all the knowledge he had gleaned from his nomad tutor, he still could think of no cure for this. Though the blow from the blood orc's club must have been harmful enough, there was also whatever damage Ridley's back had suffered after slamming into the tree. Jack was a healer, not a surgeon. He had not the hands to restore a fractured skull or severed spinal cords…

He looked up at the sounds of another's approach, and he watched wonderingly as Lord Nogueira came near, the captive light elf cradled unconscious in his arms. Captain Ganz moved swiftly out of the way, and Lord Nogueira lowered the younger light elf gently to the ground beside Ridley's unmoving form.

"Ridley!"

All looked up as a heavily armored knight entered the clearing. Jack frowned; whoever this was, the guy was intruding, and Jack for one did not welcome him.

"Captain Cross Ward," Ganz greeted in his surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on a mission in the area, and I heard orcs," the man replied shortly. He made to come to Ridley's side, but halted upon receiving Jack's dark glare.

Jack knew he was being unreasonable. But, though they'd not been the closest of friends, Ridley and he were a part of the same brigade. They were as family, or so it had been written in the knights' charter - and this Cross guy was _not_ in their brigade, _not_ of their 'family.' Also, if he allowed himself to think on it, Jack suspected somewhere in the back of his mind that this other knight was not being entirely truthful about his presence here.

"We must act quickly," Lord Nogueira softly spoke. "Or Hap and the girl will die. A transpiritation ritual may be their only hope."

Jack turned his head toward the leader of the dark elves, knowing some reluctant curiosity at the unfamiliar term. But apparently Genius knew exactly what was being offered, as his eyes had grown wide behind his tiny spectacles. "You would perform a transpiritation ritual? On a _human_?"

There it was again. Transpiritation…

"I see little choice," was Lord Nogueira's response. "Hap's soul has nearly vanished completely, and the girl's… is fading more swiftly than even I am comfortable witnessing." Yet he hesitated, "I cannot say whether the ritual will be successful. But if we do nothing, the chance of losing both souls will increase to definite."

Genius looked about to say something, but instead he turned to Ganz Rothschild. Jack, too, turned to his captain for the answer. For this counted as a brigade decision, and only its captain could authorize any such dwindling hope.

Ganz took a deep breath, and then at last nodded his permission. "Please, my lord. Any chance you offer is a chance we are willing to accept. And we shall be strongly indebted to you for your effort."

Lord Nogueira seemed little concerned with debts. He hovered his hand over the two prone bodies, closing his eyes. His palm ignited with light, and both Ridley and the younger light elf became luminescent in response. From their chests lifted up tiny orbs of blue light, one from each of them, and they lifted higher until they were nearly level with Nogueira's unopened gaze. They slowly circled each other - once, twice - and then came together with a tiny ringing that was like the pinging of crystal chimes.

One strongly pulsing yellow orb drifted down and disappeared into Ridley's chest, at the same instant as the younger light elf suddenly burst in a soundless explosion of soft light.

Lord Nogueira opened his eyes with a sharp gasp, stumbling back to lean against the strength of a tree. Genius was there like a flash, catching the elf lord before he could collapse to the ground. "I'm fine," the elf lord gasped, straightening to his feet. "But I shall have to go to the City of Flowers… Inform my brother that Hap's body is no more…" His gossamer wings spread wide, and he lifted up into the air, disappearing above the canopy of the forest.


	5. Throughout the Night

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Five - Throughout the Night**

The knight called Cross Ward was the first to move, bending down as though to take up Ridley in his arms. Jack reacted, leaning over Ridley and effectively preventing the guy from what he intended.

The other knight attempted to appear patient. "She needs to be taken back to the city. To the castle."

"She's not your responsibility," Jack quietly argued, moving one hand to his satchel of remedies. "Ridley is a member of the Rose Cochon. _We_ will be the ones to return her home."

"Master Jack…"

"Your permission, sir?"

"Are you certain you feel up to the task, lad?"

By touch alone, he found what he'd been searching for. He brought out a phial of sage extract, eyes never leaving Cross as he uncorked the phial and tipped a quarter of its thick pale purple liquid into his mouth. Corking the phial and returning it to his satchel, he finally turned away from the other knight and met his captain's worried gaze. "Please, sir. She was hurt while defending me. If this is all I can do for her…"

With a sigh, Ganz nodded his head. "Very well, Master Jack. You have my consent."

And so Jack carefully gathered Ridley into his arms, accepting Genius' assistance to straighten again to his feet. The knight named Cross gave an unsatisfied frown, but Jack turned away and ignored him entirely. Captain Ganz began to lead the way out of the forest, and Jack followed, with Genius hovering at his side and ready to assist again should it be needed.

~o~

Jack had brought Ridley straight to the castle's infirmary wing, while Captain Ganz went ahead to report to the Prime Minister the unhappy result of their mission. The infirmary's doctor wanted many details about Ridley's condition, and Jack fought his exhaustion to answer as coherently as he could. He waved off the doctor's attempts to see to him too, knowing he needed only simple rest to come down from the adrenaline high he had forced upon himself over the last couple days to get Ridley home.

With Ganz's help, he convinced the doctor to let him stay but one night in the infirmary. He could not bring himself to leave Ridley's side. He did beg parchment and ink from the doctor, however, some far away part of his mind remembering that Flau would be awaiting news of his safe return.

He spared no detail of his mission - the thwarted attempt to get into the City of Flowers; his conversation with Ridley; his awe of the dark elf haven, which he learned was called the Forest Metropolis. Meeting the dark elf leader, who had turned out to be the light elf lord's younger brother; the race to save the light elf messenger; the desperate fight against the blood orc. Ridley's sacrifice in his defense… The use of elf magic in attempt to save her…

Once he had gotten started, it was very difficult for him to stop. His pen scrawled across the parchment without pause, as he spilled out of him his every frustrated worry for his brigade-member's life. He wrote of his regret for ever suspecting her, for never trusting her as fully as she had deserved. He wrote a confession that he had not been as angered as much as he had been impressed by her daring to cheat during the selection trials. Her determination was something he feared he would never find in himself to equal. He swore in writing to never doubt her again, to give her his trust and friendship, and somehow repay her for the sacrifice she had suffered for him.

When he had finished, the moon was high in the night sky, and his letter was twelve pages long. He folded it carefully, dripping sealing wax directly onto the parchment and penning its destination before asking of the doctor to request its delivery in his place. Then he folded his arms atop Ridley's blankets near her legs and rested his cheek on his arms, watching her sleep until he felt his own eyelids grow heavy.

_His dream tonight was different. He did not dream of slaying a dragon. But those eyes were there. Those hauntingly blue eyes that seemed always to make his heart clench painfully and to steal away his breath._

_Tonight they filled his vision, so that he could not think to look away. He stared into those eyes, drowning, unable to breathe. And then a freezing fire flooded his heart and swam through his veins. The liquid ice, that fiery current, it held him within its throng. And all the while, those eyes continued to pierce him straight through to his soul…_

Yet again, he was awakened by the feel of another's hand upon his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder to find the doctor offering him a very sympathetic look. Heart clenching, he looked quickly to Ridley. The blonde beauty was still as stone; what was left of her color had fled sometime in the night, and the blankets no longer rose and fell with her rhythmic breathing.

For once, Jack felt as though he understood what his dream had meant to tell him. That cold burning that had rooted him to the spot - that was his heart telling him what he should have expected all along. Lord Nogueira's effort, valiant as it was, had been too late.

Lady Ridley Silverlake… was no more.

Jack dropped his face to his arms and spat out a string of profanities though his tears.

~o~

The sun had not yet risen; the skies were still pale and grey with approaching twilight. Ganz came to the infirmary, and he too was much distressed to learn of Ridley's death. Jack and he shared several long minutes of mournful silence, before the captain recalled why it was he had come.

In his hand was a single sheet of parchment, from which he read aloud the Prime Minister's decree that the Rose Cochon would henceforth be disbanded. Further upsetting was the addendum that Ganz Rothschild and Jack Russell would be dismissed from the Radiata knights altogether. It seemed the Lord Chamberlain - Ridley's father - was blaming them for his daughter's injuries. No one had told him yet of her death.

Jack almost bristled at this. It was the blood orc that had hurt Ridley; it had been difficult enough simply to survive the battle. Jack, or even Ganz for that matter, would never willingly have brought so much pain upon their brigade-member. He knew he should be upset by the accusation. He should be outraged, furious - but by now his heart was too numb for it to really matter anymore.

On top of everything else, he had failed Adele. He was to be a knight in his sister's place, to breathe life into her dream of valiance and honor. His heart was numbed with so much sorrow, but he could still feel a seed of guilt for disappointing his fair sister and wondered how he would tell her.

And then Ganz offered a proposition. He was going to attempt to join Theatre Vancoor, the warrior guild; his experience with the knights could easily be transferred from one to the other, and the skills required were virtually the same. Ganz asked whether Jack might like to come with him. They would need to leave now, before morning light, so as not to provoke a confrontation.

Though he really just wanted to lie down and let the world move on without him, Jack wearily pushed to his feet. Ganz's proposition provided a reprieve from his guilt; Adele had admired the warrior's guild nearly as much as the royal knights. She would not disapprove. Jack cast one last gaze in Ridley's direction, memorizing her face and imagining her to be simply asleep - and then he locked his grief away to dwell upon later and followed his former captain out of the castle.

~o~

"I'm sorry, Captain," Jack muttered an hour later. "I didn't mean to…"

"No," Ganz shook his head with a kind smile. "I'm actually quite happy for you."

Theatre Vancoor had given them both tests to judge their skills, right there on the spot. Though Jack had not really felt any enthusiasm, he had carried through with little trouble. He'd been admitted. Ganz had not fared so well. Now they stood together on an elevated walkway, beneath which was the simple apartment assigned to Jack as his new home.

"But where will you go from here," Jack found it in himself to wonder.

The man gave another smile, though this one seemed a little less certain. "Oh, I'll think of something. There are quite a few opportunities in a city like this, anyway. Perhaps I'll find my luck elsewhere."

"I _am_ sorry," Jack tried to stress once more, though his voice had become little more than a grief-riddled monotone.

"Don't be," his former captain softly insisted. "Just promise to do your best with the warrior guild; show them what you're made of. I'll contact you once I get settled in with something new of my own. And Master Jack?"

"Sir?"

Ganz's smile faded into a look of shared understanding. "Difficult as it might be, do try to carry on. I've often discovered that 'one day at a time' works best."

"Yes, sir," he sighed, watching the man turn and walk away. Then he took the stone steps off the side of the walkway and entered his new apartment, not bothering to find a lamp and dropping his belongings to the floor. He shuffled his feet forward until he met something that blocked his path, idly memorizing the interior of his apartment in the dark while searching for his bed, where he promptly lay down and passed out.

A few hours later, Jack awoke to sunlight streaming brightly through his window and to someone pounding loudly upon his door. He opened his eyes, for a brief moment forgetting where he was. But then it all came back to him. His throat constricted, and he swallowed hard. _One day at a time_, his former captain had said.

The pounding at his door came again. Jack sat up and pushed to his feet. He had left the castle in the clothes he'd arrived in, and had passed out in the same. Seeing no reason to waste time looking for something else to wear, he merely straightened his shirt as he crossed the one-room apartment. He pulled the door open.

It was Thanos, the man who heralded the front desk of the warrior guild. Nearly all mission requests went straight to him, to be sifted through before they were finally delivered as they were intended.

"Kid," the man sighed, half exasperated, half concerned. "We can't let this become a habit. You were to report in first thing, remember?"

"I know, Thanos. I'm sorry."

"You're okay, ain't you?"

"Yeah," Jack automatically replied. "Don't worry."

Thanos gave him a doubtful look, but then shrugged it off. "Well, come on. We got to get you to your squad room so we can introduce you to your new sergeant."

"Right," he answered. Briefly turning away, he swiftly belted his satchel of remedies and strapped his wind-imbued sword to his back.

When he turned back to the open doorway, he found that Thanos was nodding in approval. "Good, kid. That's what we like to see in the guild - a readiness to leave on assignment at a moment's notice."

"Will I always need to be so ready?" He asked, stepping outside and closing his door behind him.

Shrugging again, the man began to lead the way along the road. "That depends on how popular your squad is. Squad assignments always take priority. Solo missions, on the other hand… You can accept as few or as many as you want of those."

His sergeant's name was Jarvis, a man in love with his liquor. Aside from his sergeant and himself, the only other member of the squad that Jack had been assigned to was an inept youth named Daniel. Theirs was the Hecton squad. Jarvis had pitted Jack against Daniel, morbid curiosity no doubt, though the drunkard had claimed it was to designate a corporal. Even in his grief, Jack recalled his training well. Though Daniel lacked the skill to even provide a decent challenge.

It was early afternoon before Jarvis dismissed his squad, at the same time ordering Jack to find some better armor for himself. Yet Jack had no money of his own. Though Daniel was sore at having lost their skirmish, he was a kind enough lad to advise Jack to ask Thanos for a solo mission. The squads were all paid through assignments, and solo missions helped to provide extra coin for the pocket.

Jack decided he would set aside the time for such an endeavor tomorrow. For now, he wanted only to return to his apartment, to lock himself away and forget as much as he could of the outside world with sleep.

There was yet one more thing waiting for him, however, when he approached his door.

"F-Flau…?"

"Jack," the spunky bandit greeted solemnly. Much sympathy shone in her large brown eyes, and yet she did not try to console him with useless words. She only stepped forward and invited him into her ready embrace.

Jack's throat closed around a thick lump, and he tightened his arms around her. He would wait another minute or two to shut himself away from the world. Here was his friend, whom he had not the chance to speak with since the day they'd met, and all he wanted this moment was to hold on to her. Somehow, her very presence reminded him that he yet lived. And though his heart had far from recovered from his pain, he took some comfort that here was someone who understood.

She stayed with him as he hid himself away for the rest of the day. She did not ask any questions, or try to distract him with inane chatter. She did not attempt to convince him that the pain would one day fade away. While he lay upon his bed, curled up in a fetal position as though he truly could block out the world, she simply moved about his apartment, wordlessly clearing away the clutter that had been left behind by its previous tenant. And when she had done, she quietly let herself out to tidy up the mess outside his door as well. She kept herself near enough so that he would not feel alone, but busy enough not to invade upon his personal grief.

And Jack did allow his grief its due. He fell asleep with tears still streaming down the sides of his face, whispering Ridley's name throughout the night.


	6. Without Another Word

Title:** Last Dance of Chances**

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Six - Without Another Word**

And so Jack lived on.

An armored knight delivered his severance pay the very next day. He immediately counted out a handful of coins and gave it back, asking the knight to deliver it straight to Sir Leonard. His old roommate would understand the paid debt when he received it.

He wrote to Adele the first chance he got. He explained what had happened and apologized most sincerely for being unworthy to fulfill her dream of knighthood, but swore to find honor as a warrior. It was only a handful of days before he received his sister's reply. Her words assured that he could never disappoint her, that he had done everything she would have, more even. And she praised him for joining the warrior guild - though she added toward the end that even if he had returned home to their village, he would never have lost his honor in her eyes.

Jack Russell slept with her letter under his pillow that night. His dreams were less painful.

He eventually made a round of the shops closest to his apartment. He browsed the item shops, but found little he did not already have in his satchel of remedies; he spent an hour rummaging through the book shop, finally settling on a handful of scrolls that looked promising; he could not yet afford new armor, but he did manage to purchase a couple pairs of breeches and a handful of new shirts…

He ran into Clive, once. The novice priest had improved some since they'd last spoken. Clive had taken Jack's advice to visit the Ressan Tree, and had impressed his superiors when he'd returned with his own supply of fresh holy dew. Clive thanked Jack profusely for that.

Flau visited him most nights. She never once mentioned Ridley, but was always willing to offer a comforting embrace whenever Jack's grief threatened to overwhelm him.

For the next several days, he took on any solo mission that was thrown his way. Thanos was impressed, though he did not say that in so many words. Yet his mouth tugged in a knowing smirk whenever Jack approached his desk.

By the time Jarvis announced that the Hecton squad received an assignment, Jack had already begun to accumulate a reputation as the most ambitious young newcomer to join the warrior guild in half a century.

~o~

"The _elflands_?" Jack jumped to his feet, hands slamming down upon the table. His heart thumped painfully within his chest as he stared at his sergeant. "Why? What could she possibly want us to look for up there?"

Jarvis shook his head. "Crocogators, if you can believe it."

Beside him, Daniel grew strangely still.

"Why?" Jack demanded again.

"You tell me," their sergeant shrugged. "Why would anyone want the hide of a crocogater?"

"It's used to make fashionable bags," Daniel quietly spoke up. "They're very popular with the wealthy ladies…"

"That's sick," Jack muttered, truly disgusted.

Jarvis ignored him, looking to Daniel with surprise. "I never guessed _you'd_ know so much about this sort of thing. Good. That kind of knowledge will be handy in this assignment."

"I'm sorry…"

"What?"

Daniel pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm sorry," he repeated more strongly. "I-I can't help you this time. I _won't_. Isabella would never forgive me! _I'd_ never forgive me!" And before anyone could argue, he ran out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

Jarvis stared at the door for several seconds, before finally shaking his head. "I'll have to ask him later who Isabella is… Well," he added, getting to his feet. "Come on, Jack. Lady Anastasia is quite a prospective client. We might actually earn some money when this is done."

Jack followed as far as the door, but then he hesitated. "Sir…"

"Now, don't tell me you can't do this assignment either, kid," his sergeant quickly interrupted. "I can't take down something that big by myself, and the job's got to be done."

Sighing, Jack shook his head. "No, sir. I'm ready."

~o~

He wasn't ready.

From the moment he crossed the bridge into the elflands, he was bombarded with memories of Ridley. Her face, her voice… it was disconcerting to suddenly feel her presence at his side, and then to turn and remember that she would never be there again. He knew only vast relief when at last they encountered their prey - it was as though his mind had been cleansed of all but the hunt.

Yet, for all the turmoil of returning where his grief was strongest, the reward had been depressingly insufficient. The Lady Anastasia, for all her claim of beauty, was a large pig of a woman who cheated the Hecton squad of decent coin. There was barely enough to split between the two of them; Jack thought perhaps Daniel had been wise not to bother.

When at last he returned to his apartment, Flau was not there. The letter she had left in his box apologized in her stead, explaining that her superiors in the Void Community had given her an assignment of her own, and that she would not have the chance to get away again for many days. So Jack was left to suffer his grief alone, with not even the soft sounds of her moving about in the background to drown out the worst of it. He fell asleep that night screaming profanities into the pillow.

~o~

Jack Russell acquainted himself with the wide world in the span of but two months. He had discovered that his grief was not so overwhelming when he kept busy, and so he continued to accept any solo mission available. He delivered parcels from a weapons shop to the smiths of Earth Valley. He helped to rid the Vareth Magical Institute's cafeteria of rats. He harvested the fangs of a smilodon for a sponsor of the Olacion Order. He vanquished a handful of wild creatures and a giant snake so that a new bridge could be built. He ventured into the sewers under the city, not once but twice, to dispel rumors of a haunting.

He traveled to Shangri La, realm of the green goblins, to search for an armor believed to make its wearer an untiring and formidable warrior (that one, he could have done without). He helped a monk of the Olacion Order to test the abilities of his apprentices. He returned yet again to Earth Valley to destroy two very large alligators which were devouring the already dwindling ore in the mountains and thereby threatening the dwarves' way of life. For that last one, he was given the title Dwarf-friend, and their elder declared that he would never be turned out from their valley.

So many adventures took their toll. Jack had yet to buy decent armor for himself. As a result, he often came home with more than a few scrapes and bruises, and his clothes were swiftly becoming little more than scraps of material.

One night he was wandering about the city square, when he happened across a most unusual man. Jack stared at the man's strange clothes and wondered whether it might be wise to avoid him. Yet the man had already spotted him and came crashing across the square. "Say there, lad," the man greeted around the lit match in his mouth. "Ye wouldn't happen to know where I might find Aphelion, would ye?"

"A-Aphelion?" Jack stammered, "No, I… I don't think I've heard that name before…"

"Ye haven't?" The man pouted thoughtfully, but then seemed to cheer up in an instant. "Ye look like a strapping young lad. A strong warrior in the making, I don't doubt."

"Uh," he hesitated, staring.

"And a lad like ye must know where to find even stronger warriors than yeself," the man went on without pause. "So tell me. Who do ye reckon to be the strongest of them all?"

Though he had barely spoken two words to her, Jack suspected that Chief Elwen, the woman in charge of Theatre Vancoor itself, must be the one to fit that role. He said so, and watched the strange man's face come alive with anticipation.

"Thank ye," the man slapped a great hand upon Jack's shoulder. "Ay, ye're a fine lad, indeed." And then he left the square and was gone.

"Jack."

He did not start, nor turn in reflex. He had been friends with the spunky bandit long enough to recognize her whispered greeting, and to get used to her suddenly appearing in the dark. "Hey, Flau," he calmly acknowledged as he sensed her presence at his side.

"Who was that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. He did not repeat his conversation with the man, knowing that she must have been nearby long enough to eavesdrop. She'd only asked for a name, because the man had never introduced himself.

Flau let the riddle go; she lightly grasped Jack's wrist and tugged. "Come with me."

"Where," he wondered, though he was already letting his feet follow in the direction she urged him.

She smiled. "To the slums," she whispered conspiringly. "We've just got a new shipment of weapons and armor, and the shopkeeper owes me a favor."

_The slums_. Jack's heart missed a beat, and a drop of adrenaline trickled along his veins. The slums were bandit territory, the only part of the city he had yet to explore. _We_ must have been in reference to the Void Community. Jack swallowed; though he trusted Flau and had, through her, even begun to respect some of the more honorable bandits, he knew his name as the warrior guild's most aspiring newcomer must by now have garnered a reputation among those darker streets.

Yet he need not have worried. Because Flau stuck so close to his side, any bandit that happened to glance in their direction quickly looked away again. Flau whispered it was because of a silent agreement within the Void Community - any citizen seen in the company of a bandit was to be remembered and left alone. Friends on the outside could someday prove beneficial, and the Void Community's superiors would respect any such ties, so long as those involved did the same.

They entered a shop called the Dead End Armory, and its keeper looked kindly enough. The heavy-set man gave Jack a once-over, but smiled a greeting upon recognizing Flau. The spunky bandit stepped right up to his counter, her hand on Jack's arm assuring that he was close behind. "Hey, Lunbar. I'm here for that favor you owe me."

The man laughed, a hearty chuckle that matched the humor in his eyes. "Which one, little lady?"

"Whichever," she waved her other hand airily. "Take your pick." She nudged Jack closer before the counter, "This is a friend of mine. He ventures out of the city a lot, with only the clothes on his back to protect him."

"Ah," Lunbar nodded sagely. "So it's armor he'll be wantin'. Well, look around; see if what I've got catches your fancy."

Yet Flau's hand tightened around Jack's arm, rooting him in place. Her eyes leveled their steady gaze upon the shopkeeper. "Actually, there's a reason I waited until now to bring him to you. I want him to look into that new shipment of yours."

An uncomfortable look flitted across his face. "The bosses are goin' to have my neck if I sell to your friend before _they'd_ had a chance to look at it. You're askin' a little much for the payment of one favor…"

"So send them my way, and I'll tell them I gave you no choice."

Lunbar did seem eased by that proposal. He nodded and got to his feet, moving from behind his counter to a slightly visible niche in the back wall. Heeding a physical command that Jack could not discern, the wall shuddered and slid aside with a low rumbling sound like stone grinding against itself. Lunbar waved Jack closer, bending low to unfold the tops of four cardboard boxes.

Jack's heart murmured uncertainly, and he clenched his teeth as the air around him suddenly whispered of quarreling elements. Fire, water, and earth, in their purest electric current, and buried somewhere amongst the less-threatening leathers. Yet the wind-imbued blade at his back sent him a wash of comforting warmth through his shirt, a beck of welcome. _Please_, he cried desperately to it. _Help me to find your brethren._

With a slow breath, aware that those behind him did not know of his dilemma, he cautiously approached the boxes. Bracing himself, he delve his hand among the contents of one - and let out an inaudible sigh. None but leathers. But his blade was still nudging him forth; a suitable armor must be here somewhere. Straightening, he looked to the three remaining boxes. He tried to focus on the feeling of welcoming warmth his blade was emitting, tried to pick through the elements in the air until he found the twin current to which his blade was calling so eagerly.

And then he blinked. Colors were revealing themselves in the air over the second and third boxes. He narrowed his eyes, concentrating. Paler than light, particles of blue water and green earth played over one box, while over the other red fire sparred together with… streams of purple?

His blade sang.

With a sharply indrawn breath, Jack instinctively plunged his hand into that box, gritting his teeth against the rebutting burn of whatever had been imbued with the fire element… And then his fingers brushed against something that sent an almost pleasant tingling up his arm toward his elbow. His fingers fisted his discovery tightly, and he straightened again, pulling his prize out in the open where he might at last look upon it.

It had been packaged in clear plastic, and it was less weighty than it appeared, he marveled as he hefted it in his hands. Within the hardy plastic he could make out pale purple cloth, lined simply yet elegantly with trims of silver.

"How much?"

"Jack," Flau whispered, perhaps to caution him against his decision.

And Lunbar cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Boy, that's one of my most expensive… I've only hope that a young lord might take interest, or I might scrap it altogether."

Though Jack did not like to advertise his success within the warrior guild, he felt both confident and humbled that he had saved enough. "How much," he repeated more firmly.

The man sighed, "Seventy-eight hundred."

For the first time that he could remember since Ridley's death, Jack's mouth tugged in a small smile - small, hesitant perhaps, but a true smile nonetheless. He did not carry that much in his pouch - he would have to be exceedingly unwise to attempt such a notion - but a hefty sum was hidden away under the floorboards of his apartment. Seventy-eight hundred was very close to the entirety of his savings, yet he did not hesitate.

Jack turned to look the shopkeeper in the eye. "Leave this out for me," he instructed, handing over the plastic package, ignoring the tingle of protest in his fingertips at letting it go. "I'll return before the morning."

And he left the Dead End Armory without another word.


	7. Unpleasant Memories

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Seven - Unpleasant Memories**

"Wow," Flau murmured in awe as Jack stepped out of his apartment. "You look… _really_ good."

Smiling self-consciously, Jack Russell smoothed his hands down the front of his new attire. Its first layer consisted of a skin-tight full-body leotard of brown stretch leather. Bronze knee-guards and a thick plate of the same metal over his upper torso was its second layer. The third and last layer were a pair of thick brown leather high boots, a pair of shining bronze gauntlets, and a tunic.**(1)** Said tunic was what drew the eye, Jack mused - pale purple in color, lined with fine trims of silver, with wide short sleeves, a dramatically pointed lower hem, and a thin strip of leather belted around his waist…

And every bit of it - the leather, the bronze pieces, the tunic - _all_ of it had been magically imbued with the same element as his blade. His entire body had tingled as he was donning the armor, as though he was blushing warmly from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers and toes. Yet his body had swiftly calmed; his blood now swam through his veins in calm contentment. As it had been with his blade, it was as though he had reunited with a long-forgotten friend, and yet he knew their performance would be well in synch with each other.

"No, really," Flau insisted when he had failed to reply. "Jack, you're absolutely stunning. I only hope you don't treat that armor the way you've been treating the rest of your clothes, because I don't think you can afford another one."

His smile made a truer return as he secured his blade to his back. He knew, without needing to be told, that this armor would need very little maintenance. Like his blade, it was made of stronger stuff than it appeared.

Flau leapt down from the wall of his stone stairs, stepping down to throw herself to him in one of her customary enthusiastic embraces. "I have to go; I have to talk to my bosses before they get wind of what Lunbar did without their permission."

"Good luck," he whispered sincerely, arms tightening around her once before he released her.

"Same to you," she replied. And then she was gone, loping over the bridge and out of sight like a rabbit would dart beneath the shrubbery.

~o~

"Well, don't you look impressive," Jarvis greeted as Jack entered the Hecton squad room. "It's just as well," he continued as Jack sat down, "since we've received a new assignment. And this one takes us straight to the castle."

Daniel's eyes widened with curiosity and anticipation. Jack, however, was not so eager to return to where the worst of his memories lay in wait for him. "Why?" He softly demanded of his sergeant.

Jarvis shrugged, but his answer at least was more enlightening than his manner. "Apparently, we're to act as bodyguards to one of the nobles. We're to learn who, once we arrive."

"A noble," Daniel sighed in awe, considerably more excited about this mission than he had been about the last one. "One of the royals?"

"I don't know," Jarvis shook his head. "But the warrior guild is always receiving requests like this. The job might have required more strength than our small number can offer, but as we're not well-reputed enough to stand out too much, the chief and her second-in-command decided we make the best pick."

Jack decided that to comment on that last part would be unwelcome and rude. He knew well why a drunkard sergeant and his clumsy subordinate might not earn the kind of reputation that had been bestowed upon the other squads. Jack tried to do well for their squad, but the Hecton did not consist of him alone.

"Come on," his sergeant commanded, rising from the table. Jack and Daniel followed suit. "Let's go see who'd be so desperate," Jarvis suggested grimly.

~o~

It was the Royal Princess, herself.

Jack knew from the moment he saw her that she was trouble. Claiming 'Arnold' as a pseudonym, insisting upon touring though every public street of the city… It was no great wonder when she took a corner before them and found herself abducted by a pair of bandits. Jack raced after her, fervently hoping that he was not chasing after any of Flau's more honorable acquaintances.

Jarvis's binging habits and Daniel's inexperience forced them to drop behind in the chase, and Jack had had to wait out a frustrating handful of minutes before they could catch up to him outside an abandoned house. With Jarvis' permission, they followed into the house, only to discover a tunnel that led down into the sewers of the city itself - and an ambush.

The battle was swift. Easy. But Daniel foolishly rushed headlong into an obvious attack and was knocked unconscious. While the bandits ran off, Jack refused to be moved until he could be allowed a moment to check Daniel over. And he breathed a sigh of much relief. Though the blow had brought to Jack a disturbing sense of déjà vu, Daniel had fared better than had his late brigade-member. Only a rather large bump to the skull; Daniel would awake, with a headache but alive.

Jack informed to Jarvis that he had had to explore the sewers twice already on solo missions, and his sergeant agreed that they would navigate faster through its tunnels if Jack took the lead. He tracked the bandits too well, perhaps, for at the end of the trail awaited another ambush. For his part, Jack fought back savagely, but they had already stolen the upper hand. He and his sergeant were roped to chairs and treated to quite a beating.

Jack's memory of that dark hour was blurred and hazed. He had taken many bare-fisted blows to the head, and so was understandably disoriented by the time he heard their captors murmur in alarm. Lifting his head, he squinted through the blood of a split eyebrow to identify their rescuer. Though he had only ever seen the man during his test to join the warrior guild, Jack immediately recognized Gerald, the second-in-command.

The eye-patched man dared the leader of their captors with a sharp look and an even sharper tongue. In his hands were two blades, one larger than the other, his favored weapons. His very presence was formidable. Yet it seemed their captors' leader was somewhat immune; with two confident steps forward, he thrust his own blade forth - piercing through Gerald's leather armor and finding purchase in the stomach it was meant to protect.

Jack's eyes blurred further as Gerald sank to the floor, and within seconds his own head fell forward as he drifted into black nothingness.

When next he awoke, he thought it strange that he was no longer uncomfortable. He blinked his eyes open, swiftly taking note that the chair and ropes that had bound him had been replaced by a thin cot and linen sheets. Someone had taken the liberty of dressing his wounds, he noted wryly as his fingers cautiously felt at the bandages wrapped around his brow. It was perhaps that same someone that had stripped him of his armor - which now lay upon the seat of a chair beside his cot - and dressed him in simple white nightclothes.

Jack pushed up on his elbows, glancing around. Though he had never visited this room, he knew immediately that it must be the warrior guild's own small infirmary wing. In the cot beside him, Jarvis was very slowly regaining consciousness as well, and in a cot across the floor…

"_S-sir…?_"

Gerald paused in the midst of another sit-up, resting his arms atop raised knees as he tossed Jack a crooked grin. His eye patch was missing; his scarred left eye was milky white. "You sound as though you're about to have a heart attack, boy."

Jack tried to swallow, "A-are you all right? I saw that bandit's sword…"

"He deliberately avoided hitting me anywhere vital," the man shrugged, though there was a heated light in his good eye. "Toying with me."

It was then that there came a knock on the infirmary door, which finally coaxed Jarvis to come awake. He blinked owlishly at their second-in-command, but said nothing as Chief Elwen herself came into the room. Gerald attempted to stand in her presence, but she waved him down again. "Though the princess was safely returned, the higher-ups are not pleased with Theatre Vancoor. The reputation of the warrior guild has been compromised. I'm afraid we'll have to act swiftly if we hope to redeem ourselves."

"What do you want me to do?" Gerald asked of his only superior.

"No," the woman kindly shook her head. "I'm sorry, but it's time at last that you take on a successor. Let Jack do this for us."

Jack stared, certain he had misheard. "Me?"

"You kept a clear head throughout this last assignment, when more experienced men might have lost themselves to anger or distress," Elwen explained, turning in his direction. "And your streak of success over so many solo missions leads me to believe that you are overdue for a bit of acknowledgement."

"But, I-"

"Jack Russell," she patiently went on. "You are hereby a sergeant of Theatre Vancoor. Gerald will instruct you on everything a sergeant needs to know, and I myself will select candidates for your new squad."

"But what about the Hecton?" He asked, glancing apologetically toward Jarvis.

His former sergeant gave a weak laugh, seeming to struggle with his own disbelief. "We'll be fine without you, kid. Daniel and I will just have to make do like we did before you'd ever arrived. Don't worry."

~o~

He was not being given a choice.

Late that night, Jack returned home to find Flau waiting outside his door. He did not mention his mission; he knew that she would have learned of it in her own way by now. But his heart wrenched as he explained his promotion and the assignment they had dropped upon him this time.

Flau's spunky smile had turned into a pretty little pout by the time he'd finished. "But you're my friend, Jack. And if you're caught trying to uncover the secrets of the Void Community-"

"I know," he sighed. "We could be forced to fight each other."

"Don't do it. Please."

"I can't just turn up nothing, Flau. They'd start to get suspicious, and then _I'd_ be investigated…"

Her lips pressed together in a grim line, but she nodded that she understood what Jack had left unsaid. Their friendship would be discovered, and then Jack would be suspected of spying for the bandit guild. His loyalties would be tested, and if he did not meet with satisfaction, he could be turned out of the city. Worse, he could be imprisoned. Or simply executed.

After much debate, the night passing on without them, they at last came upon a likely solution. Flau, one of her superiors' favorites, would explain that a friend on the outside was in danger of being discovered. It was not a lie, and so long as Jack's name was not mentioned there would be no questions asked. She would explain Jack's situation to them, in as little detail as possible, and suggest to her superiors that he be supplied with false information.

Flau's superiors were dangerously clever. They could invent information that would ring strong and true to inexperienced ears. Jack would on occasion report in with this false information, and none would suspect its nonsense.

Relieved that they had found the answer, Flau and Jack bade each other good night even as the skies were graying with twilight. Flau left immediately to put their plan into action, and Jack went into his apartment to catch a few hours' sleep.

For the next handful of weeks, it seemed to work. Jack reported in to Gerald's office every morning in case there was some extra assignment for him, and every third afternoon he gave his false report to Elwen herself. His squad had been given the name Acht, and though he had yet to accept any recruits, his own growing reputation set high expectations.

Jack continued to take on solo missions, finding his new freedom as a sergeant to mean that he could take on as many as he wanted, as often as he wanted. He was challenged by a woman named Ursula, once by accident, the next time deliberately. Both times Jack tested the strength of her golem, and both times left the woman frustrated over her own failures. He helped a servant named Sebastian save his master Star from a magic armor that had taken him over. At one point, he felt reckless enough to accept an anonymous challenge, and knew no surprise when it turned out to be a trap set up by a small number of country bandits.

One particular favor left him morosely sullen after he returned home. One of the dwarves of Earth Valley had knocked upon his door. The knights of Radiata Castle had been sent to that dignified valley, not on a journey of peace, but to ruthlessly ambush the dwarves and slaughter them all. Jack and the dwarf that had escaped had arrived upon the cliffs overlooking the valley only in time to witness as the majestic Earth dragon suddenly appeared in the dwarves' defense. Jack's heart had raced with strong hope and something else he could not name - but it was for naught. The dragon had been vanquished, and when Jack looked hard enough he had recognized the captain Cross Ward, whom Jack had only met directly after Ridley had received a blood orc's attack. And then, despite Jack's pleas to the opposite, the dwarf that had escaped descended into the valley, to be captured and slain with the rest of his kind.

That night, Jack tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find sleep. He had witnessed the death of a race. As significant and saddening as that had been, it paled when put next to what else he had witnessed. The death of a dragon.

Jack's own father had witnessed the same, more than a decade past. More than that, Cairn Russell had been the one to deliver the killing blow. The Water dragon, a two-headed beast of grace and power, had fallen to Cairn's blade. It was rumored that Cairn himself had died that same day.

Jack had long cherished his mother's memories of his father, but he had never been proud of Cairn's final act. And now, after witnessing the death of the Earth dragon, Jack's heart broke to realize the depth of the cruelty in which his father had indulged. Guilt overwhelmed him, even as he fell asleep, and his dreams echoed his despair.

_Gleaming violet scales disappeared between the cliffs, and the deafening echo of a dying roar filled the skies. Jack shuddered as the dragon's corpse crashed among the rocks below, but he forced himself to turn away._

_Blind to his inner turmoil, a shadow stepped up behind him and dropped a gauntleted hand to his shoulder. "Well done, Jack," a deep voice strongly praised near his ear. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."_

_But Jack was not listening. He watched as the startlingly blue eyes of a pale light elf turned in his direction. The purity of the color in those eyes were now clouded with much pain, yet still the elf narrowed them in an attempt to focus their weakening sight. Lips parting to draw in a shaky breath, the elf spoke in a voice that had lost nearly all of its music, all of its lyrical strength. "D-did you say… C-Cairn…?"_

_Jack shrugged the shadow's hand from his shoulder and carefully drew closer. His heart raced as he watched the light elf follow his progress with eyes that had already lost their clarity. "Cairn Russell was my father's name," he confessed, though he could not say why. "He destroyed the Water dragon."_

_Those eyes widened with surprise. And then chills ran down Jack's spine as the light elf suddenly gave a breathless laugh, a soft chuckle that shook the elf's weakened form. Jack could not understand. The elf was wasting what little breath he had… to laugh? "W-what's so funny," he quietly demanded._

"_The i-irony," the elf gasped. He closed his hauntingly blue eyes, shaking his head. "F-fate plays such t-tricks…"_

Jack awoke with a start. He dropped back to his pillow with a low groan, yet he refused to return to sleep, instead waiting for the morning sun to appear outside his window.

~o~

Chief Elwen called Jack into her office that afternoon. "I have some good news for you," she announced. She lifted up a sheet of parchment from her desk. "This is a list of names. Gerald has looked into each of them for me, and I'm pleased to approve your pick of any of them for your squad."

Jack obediently looked over the list. He recognized the names of Olacion priests, Vareth students, even a few citizens that had tried out for knighthood and been turned away. Sighing, he set the list down again upon Elwen's desk. "No."

"Jack?"

"I don't want any of them. I'm content to wait a while longer before forming my squad."

The woman sat in silence for several seconds, but then she nodded her consent. "Very well, Sergeant Jack. The Acht squad shall be put on hold until you deem any candidates worthy to fill it."

Jack left his superior's office with much relief. Though he had not said it aloud, he truly did not wish to form the Acht into a true squad. He was much more comfortable working alone, so that he did not have to compensate for anyone's weakness but his own. Anyway, he was still deceiving Elwen and her second-in-command into thinking that he was constantly investigating the Void Community. A ruse that would prove difficult to maintain if he was forced to bring someone along with him.

Elwen continued to call him back into her office after that, with list after list of potential candidates. Each time, she left the decision to him. Each time, Jack refused them all as politely as he could manage. His insistence to work alone did not go unnoticed for long, and rumors began to circle about the only sergeant of the warrior guild to go so long without a squad.

Jack couldn't care less. He had his reasons.

One day, everything changed. He received a letter from Genius Weissheit, who had assisted the Rose Cochon during their final mission into the elflands. It bode terrible news indeed - Lord Nogueira, the dark elf leader, had succumbed to the rare but dangerous algandars disease. He did not survive.

Late that night, Flau propped her fists upon her hips as she watched Jack move about his apartment. "You can't be serious."

Jack continued to gather his belongings without pause. He had never felt completely whole since Ridley's death, and now the elf that had attempted to save her had died as well. The least he could do was to visit Nogueira's brother and pay his respects. And, anyway…

"Something is telling me I have to do this, Flau," he tried to explain one more time. "Even if I'm turned away at the door, I have to try to get into the City of Flowers. With everything that's happened - the dwarves' massacre, the death of the Earth dragon, and now this - I can't help but think the place for me to be now is in the elflands."

"But, why?"

"I don't know," he confessed, finally shouldering his duffel. "Maybe I'm wrong. But I really don't think I belong in Radiata anymore."

Flau's stared at him for a long moment, but then rushed after him as he stepped out his door. "Then I'm coming with you!"

_That_ certainly gave him pause. He stared as the spunky bandit swept around him to block his path. "What do you mean?"

"Well, _some_one's got to look out for you," she smirked. "And I could use the vacation."

He hesitated, but could not deny that he would welcome her lively presence. Sighing, he nodded. "So long as you promise to be careful. I mean it," he went on, cutting her off when it became clear she was about to protest. "I don't want to lose another friend, Flau."

Her objections had been effectively silenced. With an uncharacteristically soft smile, she nodded her agreement.

And so it was that Jack Russell, with Flau Demure at his side, left behind him the city of Radiata and its penchant for stirring up unpleasant memories.

1) The Wind Garb. And yes, I ditched the shorts. He's sixteen years old; all those outfits with shorts made him look like an overgrown child.


	8. Of the Winds

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Eight - Of the Winds**

They traveled all that night and the next day, resting briefly on occasion but never sleeping, and as the sun began to set again behind the horizon, they at last stood before the cliffs of the elflands. Jack paused as he looked upon the crevice in the stone, for it looked ominously unguarded. He lifted his gaze toward the heights of the cliff, but he could see no one.

"Why are we stopping," Flau urgently whispered near his ear. "We came all this way…"

Shaking his head to clear it, Jack took a hesitant step forward. But then he heard Flau make a small sound behind him, and he whirled around to find her restrained by two light elves - the very same two that had guarded the entrance to their haven when last Jack had come here.

Jack's first instinct was to reach for his blade, but he fisted his hands and held himself in check. He had not come here to fight, and he would never be able to convince them of that if he was to draw his weapon now. "Let her go," he quietly pleaded instead.

"We have our orders," the female one answered shortly. Her companion lifted a crystal-clear dagger of ice toward Flau's throat.

Jack tried to swallow down his sudden panic. "But we haven't done anything."

"Haven't you," demanded another voice, and Jack turned to see a taller, nobler light elf emerging from the stone crevice. "My brother is dead, and you humans are to blame. _This_ girl, especially," he added, throwing an arm in Flau's direction, "shall pay dearly for that."

It took a moment for the meaning behind the elf's words to register, and Jack's eyes widened with realization. "You mean Lord Nogueira?"

"Yes," the elf answered. "I am Zane, brother to the soul you humans mercilessly stole from me."

Jack's gaze flitted to Flau, and then back again. "What are you going to do to my friend?"

"We shall make an example of her," Lord Zane announced quite clearly. "The humans are pushing into our territories; they're relentless in their thirst for gold and power. They have already slaughtered the dwarves and made ruins of Earth Valley. The Earth dragon lies dead. If trespass and murder are all you humans understand, then we will answer you in kind. We will declare war on your race, and you shall know our intent when you see Fort Helencia fall under our just rage."

"Fort Helencia?"

"Yes. The great fortress of many of your kind's past victories. _We_ will have our vengeance there, before your race's very eyes."

"But," Jack wondered, "w-what's that got to do with my friend?"

"It is your _friend_," - and Zane spat the word out like a blasphemy - "who will be the first to fall, my own personal justice. My brother died for the sake of this human girl; I believe it only right that she return the favor."

"But you're wrong!" Jack argued, finally paying heed to his panic. He raced forward, daringly jerking the younger light elf's dagger away from Flau's throat. When both elf warriors looked ready to make him pay for his nerve, Zane sharply ordered them still. One elf trapped Flau's arms behind her back, while the other lifted his dagger again. Yet this time the dagger was not pressed against her throat, a very small concession.

"What is the meaning of this," Zane demanded of Jack.

"My lord," he desperately tried to reason. "Flau's not the girl you think she is. You want revenge on the one who your brother tried to save- Her name was Ridley Silverlake; she died soon after receiving the ritual."

"You lie!"

"No," Jack shook his head. "Please. I was there, she and I were in the same brigade. I witnessed the transpiritation, and I was with her when she died."

Something in his words must have finally reached the elf lord. Zane stepped closer, grass green eyes piercing. Jack stood his ground, never turning away from the elf lord's penetrating gaze. Finally, Zane gave a slow nod of his head. "I believe you, human. There is far too much pain in your eyes. You grieve for this Ridley Silverlake?"

"When I allow myself to slow down enough to remember her," Jack sighed. "We humans may not grieve as strongly as you elves do… but I've been told I'm not as numbed down as the rest of my race, so maybe that's why I can't bring myself to forget her."

Zane gave him a curious look. "Told by whom?"

"A dwarf."

After another moment, the elf lord turned to his warriors and commanded them to let Flau go. As the spunky bandit hurried to Jack's side, Zane wondered, "And why would a dwarf say that of you?"

Jack held his arms apart from himself, slowly turning about so that the elf lord's eyes could take in his armor and the blade at his back. Turning round again, he quietly said, "They're imbued with elemental magic. To anyone else of my kind, it would feel no different than steel or leather. But I…" He took a breath, thinking how to put what he felt to words. "I feel as though the winds themselves are protecting me within their embrace, and when I use my sword in battle, I believe I can almost feel the hum of its song strengthening my attack."

Zane's eyes widened, and behind him his two warriors shared a surprised glance. "You are sensitive to the elements?" The elf lord asked.

Jack could feel Flau staring at him too, but he kept his eyes forward. "Their magic, anyway. But it comes with a price. Water, fire, earth - their briefest touch burns my skin. And recently… I've been able to see their colors in the air."

Zane was silent for a long moment. "What is your name, human?"

"Jack Russell, sir."

"And why have you come to us, Jack Russell?"

"I don't really know," he slowly confessed. "But it feels like the right thing to do. There wasn't anything left for me where I was, and something inside me told me that I might be needed here."

"Oh? You remember that I told you of our plans to declare war against your race?"

"I remember," Jack sighed, his resolve firm. "If that's what you want, then I swear to help in any way I can."

"Jack," Flau began to protest.

"You don't have to stay with me," he interrupted her, not meeting her gaze. "You can go home if you want to, Flau. Or better yet, you should take yourself far away from all of this. But I told you. I _need_ to do this."

"Very well," Lord Zane approved. "Our first strike is to be against the Fort Helencia, as I've said. As a human, you can get in quite closer than we without suspicion. If you can infiltrate it long enough to determine how best we might take it over…"

"Yes, sir."

~o~

Fort Helencia might have been a formidable structure at one time, but now it was little more than rubble. Its walls seemed sturdy enough, Jack mused as he slipped closer under the cover of the darkening night skies. But their strength was old, in danger of wasting away. Jack could already see various areas where the fort had been breached in the past, and where repair had been neglected. He made a metal note to advise Zane to remedy that, especially if the elves had any plans for this fort after they took it over.

Jack inched closer to the fort's crumbling outer wall. There was only one knight standing guard outside. Jack didn't know whether that meant they were truly being overconfident in their own abilities, or-

"On your feet," a cold voice ordered behind him as the blade of an axe rested atop his shoulder.

They'd set a trap. Jack cursed his ignorance for not having suspected it sooner, very slowly straightening to his feet and turning around. Then he felt his eyes grow round as he recognized his captor. "Leonard…!"

"Jack," the knight blinked. "Is that you?" The axe blade almost left his shoulder, but then the man grew suddenly suspicious and inched his weapon closer toward Jack's neck. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm a sergeant of Theatre Vancoor," Jack found himself automatically answering. "Chief Elwen sent me to investigate rumors about an ambush."

"An ambush?" Leonard stared, and at last the axe was lowered away.

Jack drew a steadying breath, feeding life into his lie. "We don't know where the rumors are strongest. But most suspect the Void Community."

His former roommate seemed to take his words to heart. "Right," he nodded. "We've got to take this straight to Captain Natalie. Come on inside with me."

Jack kept his mouth shut and his eyes busy as he followed, silently taking in everything he could about the fort's interior. Deteriorating, as he had assumed, but not hopeless. Faithful reparations could give back some of its former strengths. As to who manned it… Jack's eyes counted a single dozen knights, but he did not trust that estimate - not now that it had only taken one to ambush him.

"Natalie," Leonard greeted as he pushed open a door. "We've got someone from the warrior guild to warn us of an ambush."

The female knight, a true beauty whose curly green hair would make one think she had descended from elves, looked upon Jack with much distrust in her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Leonard. Who would dare ambush Helencia?"

Jack patiently repeated his lie, being careful to emphasize that the rumors were many, and that the Void Community was the obvious answer. As he had hoped, this knight was clever enough to know that the most obvious option rarely led down the truest path. "Bandits, ha," she scoffed, waving his claims away. "Their trickery is little better than a house of cards falling to the table."

Jack immediately bristled. Any organization that spawned the likes of Flau Demure deserved more respect than that. Yet he said nothing; he could tell already that his lie had gotten him as far as it could.

"But what if it's true," Leonard spoke in Jack's defense.

"Oh, not you too," Natalie angrily moaned. "If _any_body's going to ambush this fort, it certainly won't be a handful of _bandits_!"

This time Jack trusted himself enough to answer calmly. "What if they come in greater numbers than that? What if it's a massive attack, involving the entire Void Community, superiors and all? Are you so sure you can defend yourself against such a force?"

The woman seemed then to hesitate. "Um… All of them, you say?"

He nodded.

"Are you sure, Jack?" Leonard asked of him.

He rolled his eyes in a show of impatience. "No, I'm _not_ sure. I told you; I'm only here to investigate a rumor."

"A rumor?" Natalie blinked, suddenly seeming to recover herself, and her anger. "Leonard! A _rumor_! You've got to be the most _gullible_ man I've ever met!" Abruptly she bared a sword and leveled it toward Jack's chest. "_He's_ a bandit! He's come to scout Helencia so that his superiors know how best to ambush us!"

_Damn it._ Jack brought his own blade from behind his back and struck. He held himself in check enough to only force them into losing their balance. The sight of his former roommate, whom he had once considered a friend, lying on the floor and suffering from a blow by Jack's own hand, did not settle well with Jack's stomach. "I'm sorry, Leonard," he whispered under his breath. And then he was gone, racing out of the room and through the fort before they could react. He found the exit in seconds, rushing out into the open night.

Before he reached the road, however, his feet skidded to an abrupt halt. And he stared at what awaited him.

Three light elves gazed calmly back at him, as though having expected him to find them there. Their glistening gossamer wings moved slowly behind their backs, and Jack saw that the elves hovered mere inches above the ground.

Hearing shouts behind him, Jack approached these elves. "What are you doing here," he hissed urgently. "They'll be out here any minute!"

"We figured one human alone could not possibly take down an entire fortress," spoke the light elf in the middle.

Jack finally focused upon this one - and felt his heart leap within his chest. This elf was paler than his companions, with a touch of blue mixed in with his milk-white skin. While his companions' hair and eyes were the bright yellow-green of their kind, this one's hair was silvery green and swept back away from his face, with only a lock or two falling forward toward his forehead. And his eyes… These were the eyes that had very nearly stolen Jack's breath. Bluer than anything. Startlingly blue. Their gaze could pierce straight through a man, as though to peel away his enemies' secrets without ever revealing their own. And beneath the left eye, the elf's cheek was marked with a vivid red scar.

Jack shook himself; the situation was far too urgent to dwell upon the mystery of one elf. Swiftly, he explained that he had only meant to scout the area, but that he had been caught in the act. He explained that he had tried to get away with a lie, one that nearly worked, until the humans had come up with their own excuse as to why Jack was there.

"Well, well," the elf in the middle spoke again. His mouth tilted in an almost-smile, "It is not every day you see a human keeping his word."

Jack could hear footsteps approaching from behind, and he did not need to turn around to guess that the knights were closing in. "Please, can you help me? We don't have to kill them, but if we can delay them long enough to get away…"

"Yes, very well." The blue light elf spoke to his companions; "Pitt, Row, perhaps it would be best if you returned this man to our city. I shall stay behind and halt these humans' pursuit."

The other two smaller elves nodded, each taking Jack by the arm. Before he could think to protest, he was lifted into the air. Jack quickly glanced down, his mind and his heart racing as he tried to recall _where_ had seen that blue elf before.

~o~

Jack stared as he was led through the City of Flowers. The cliffs outside were carved of barren stone. Hidden within was a bountiful treasure of beauty. It seemed the light elves housed themselves in grass huts, simple yet elegant. The roads of the city were little more than paths that had been time-worn through the grass. There were no lanterns to light the city - they needed none. Instead, tall white flowers planted here and there gave off a pale luminosity that almost seemed otherworldly.

Jack glanced around and divined that the entire city was surrounded by a ring of stone, which reached higher than any city wall, yet when he looked up he saw the brilliant majesty of the starlit skies.

Zane welcomed him back as though they were old friends. One of the light elves that had brought Jack here flitted up and whispered of Jack's narrow escape into Zane's ear. The elf lord nodded, patiently hearing out Jack's report firsthand. While Jack was explaining his lie to Flau, however, they were suddenly interrupted.

A very young dark elf burst through the door, breathless and urgent. He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his ashen face. "L-lord Zane…"

"Coco," the elf lord gently greeted. "What is it, child?"

"Humans," he gasped unsteadily. "S-sent a force… to W-wind Valley…"

Something dark passed over Zane's grass green eyes, but he calmly sank down to his own knees before the boy. His hand rested comfortingly upon Coco's shoulder. "Breathe, child. Try again. _Why_ did the humans trespass into Wind Valley?"

Fresh tears spilled again down his cheeks, but Coco gasped in a great breath and met the elf lord's gaze. "L-lord Cepheid, sir… Th-they _killed_ him…"

Anger marred Zane's smooth features for an instant, but he was the epitome of calm again as he straightened to his feet. "Pitt," he ordered. "Take Coco where he might rest. Row, you are to return to Gil at once. We shall wait no longer to take Fort Helencia. After," he added, and the other light elf paused in the doorway. "Do not tell Gil of Coco's dark tidings. This, he must hear from me."

"Yes, my lord," Row bowed, and then she was gone.

"Jack Russell," Zane spoke again, surprising him. "You and your friend may rest here for the night. I thank you for your effort. I fear I might need to ask more of you in the future."

"Sir," Jack hesitated. "Who… Who was Lord Cepheid?"

"Lord Cepheid was a creature of eternal wisdom," the elf lord very solemnly answered. "His was an existence of glory and serenity. He was _Cepheid_," Zane crooned with much aggrieved reverence. "Dragon of the Winds."


	9. The Fire Dragon

Title:** Last Dance of Chances**

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with_ this _one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Nine - The Fire Dragon**

Two mornings later, in a room of the Fort Helencia that had been made ready for him alone, Jack straightened the tunic of his armor. He reached a hand to Flau, who wordlessly passed to him his leather belt. As he fastened it around his waist, he stole one more glance at the spunky bandit's new attire.

The first layer was a black leotard. It hugged her like a second skin. Then there was the silver chest plate that protected the upper half of her torso, and the matching knee guard strapped over her right knee. The last layer consisted of a small dark green vest and impossibly short shorts of blue denim, as well as low black leather boots and a pair of fingerless leather gloves. Her beloved heavy-bladed dagger hung from a red leather belt that fell loosely about her waist.**(2)**

All in all, Jack mused, the new look seemed to suit her.

He slung a single strip of leather across his chest, slinging his blade against his back, and he returned his attention to Flau. "Ready?"

She nodded, a rare serious look in her soft brown eyes. "You sure we should be doing this? We're making enemies of ourselves to the whole of the human race, Jack."

He had already thought of that. It had kept him awake most of the night, the prospect of never seeing his fair sister again, wondering if it would be safe even to write her a letter. He'd fallen asleep to memories of her loyal smile. "I know," he sighed now. "But I can't ignore the feeling that I belong here." Then he gave a half-hearted smirk, "If you start to get scared, just remember that I'll be there to look out for you."

"Ha," she threw at him, her own smile making a swift return in the face of his challenge. "Just don't come crying to me if you find yourself in over your head!"

Indulging her with a soft laugh, he led out of the room and down a small corridor. He paused before another door, taking a slow breath before entering the fort's conference room. Lord Zane stood at the head of the table (which, really, was two large crates pushed together) and sitting on small stools to either side of him were three dark elves, and the three light elves that had helped Jack to escape this same fort two nights past. Sitting alone on the floor in a corner of the room was little Coco, who had not left Zane's side since delivering his dark tidings.

There were two empty stools placed at the other end of the "table," and just as soon as Jack and Flau had taken their seats, the door opened again to let in a strange large man. Jack immediately recognized the lit match in the man's mouth.

"Hello, there," the man heartily greeted, ambling right up to him and shaking Jack's hand in both of his gigantic palms. "If it isn't the young lad that helped me! Ay, it's great to see ye again!"

Zane tossed Flau a look of surprise, "Lord Parsec and the boy know each other?"

She giggled, "I wouldn't say that. He asked Jack a favor, and then was gone before we'd even learned his name."

"And hello to ye, too, little lady," the man chuckled, finally releasing Jack's hand to grin at Flau around the match in his mouth. "Aren't ye a pretty thing. What be yer name, lass?"

"Flau Demure," she replied with an easy smile.

"Parsec the Fire dragon, at yer service."

Jack stared, his heart murmuring uncertainly. The Fire dragon… whose three brothers had been felled by human hands…

"Lord Parsec," Zane called upon their honored guest's attention. "Perhaps we should begin the meeting."

"Ay, that we should."

"This is a meeting to discuss strategy," the elf lord addressed the rest of the table. "What we decide here will affect the fate of all the fairy creatures - indeed, the fate of the entire world. But first," he added, turning to Parsec as the large man joined his side. "I must offer to you my sincere condolences. The death of Lord Cepheid is a great loss."

"Ah, ye don't have to worry about him," Parsec chuckled. "He's only sleeping, is all."

Zane was not the only one staring at the man's relaxed countenance. "What do you mean," the elf lord wondered.

Parsec gave him an incredulous look, "Don't tell me the immortal elves have forgotten the balances of our world?" He heaved a loud sigh, "I reckon I'll just have to explain it. Now," he began, addressing the table as a whole. "Our world is governed by the great cosmic elements. Wind, water, earth, and fire. We dragons are responsible for watching over these four elements. The Wind dragon guards the elves. The Water dragon guards the orcs. The Earth dragon guards the dwarves. And, as the Fire dragon, I am responsible for guarding the goblins."

Jack dared to interrupt, "What about the humans?"

"The humans have the most important role of all, lad. They serve as the vessel for the Twin dragons." At Jack's questioning look, Parsec explained. "The Twin dragons, the silver and the gold, keep watch over this world. Just as night follows day, and day follows night, so the two dragons each take his turn as guardian of the world in its entirety. Silver dragon and Golden dragon; one or the other always looks over the world and protects its order. But neither dragon has its own form. They have to enter a vessel before they can be awakened. Without the humans to serve as their vessel, the Twin dragons can never awake."

A brief silence followed the end of his speech, until Jack could not help but to voice his curiosity. "Which one is in charge now? The gold, or the silver?"

"As it happens, now is the era of the Silver dragon. But the time of the Golden dragon is close. When it comes, it will mean the end of this world."

Jack's heart clenched, "Does that mean an end for the humans, too?"

Parsec gave a slightly apologetic look, "As long as the four elements stand unbalanced, lad, it's bound to happen." But then his smile made a strong return, "On the other hand, when the end comes, the four dragons will reawaken and live again."

"Of course," Lord Zane spoke up. "Humans are destined to die. Algandars is spreading throughout the land. The cosmic elements have been thrown out of balance… It is inevitable."

"No," the man shook his head with a weary sigh. "That's got nothing to do with it."

The elf lord stared, a wounded look in his grass green eyes. "But what do you mean? The dwarves of Earth Valley have been trampled underfoot! My brother Nogueira has been killed!"

"Ay," Parsec accepted. "But no one knows when Quasar the Golden dragon will awaken. In any case, while there's no vessel, nothing will change."

For the briefest moment, Zane looked about to argue that point. But then the expression on his face smoothed out, and he calmly let the Fire dragon continue.

The meeting went on for several more minutes. Parsec explained that in a world threatening to unbalance, there was no better path for any involved but to follow one's own convictions. If that meant that the elves must go ahead with their war against the humans, so be it. And if the humans retaliated, as all suspected they must, that would only be another thing to confront when the time came. In the meantime, Parsec planned to pay a visit to Aphelion, the Silver dragon. He seemed confident this time that he would find him.

When the meeting at last wound to a close, Jack finally found the courage to ask a question that had been plaguing him since his last night in Radiata. "Lord Zane, Lord Parsec?"

The two turned to him, expectantly.

"My-" He swallowed, "Sixteen years ago, my father killed the Water dragon. I have to know. It's a crime to kill a dragon, isn't it? I mean, with all the important things you have to do for this world…"

His words had more impact than he had expected. One of the light elves that had helped him two nights past, the pale blue-toned one who throughout the meeting had seemed only to be half-listening to the conversation, suddenly jerked his head up with a start. He turned in his seat, tossing Jack a sharp look. "What did he say?"

"So, then," Zane gasped, gazing upon Jack with new interest. "You must be _Cairn's_ son!"

Jack wondered suddenly if he had said the wrong thing. He was trying so hard to convince the elf lord that his word was true - he would side with the nonhumans, no matter what. But now Zane looked as though he had seen a ghost. And the other light elf, the one with those startlingly blue eyes that Jack could _swear_ he'd seen before… This one looked at Jack as though he could meet some long-forgotten expectation.

"It's not a crime, lad," Parsec finally spoke. "Yer father was doing nothing more than following his own conviction."

~o~

Zane had decided that they could use more allies in what they were about to do, and Parsec suggested sending Jack to Goblin Haven. When Jack confessed that he had never visited that corner of the world before, Zane gently coaxed little Coco into showing the way. The boy very reluctantly left his corner and went to await Jack outside the fort entrance. Flau insisted upon going along as well, and would not listen to any argument Jack might give her. And so they stopped by Jack's room to pick up his satchel of remedies, and then left to meet up with Coco. But they were intercepted.

The blue light elf from before was standing before the main entrance, effectively blocking their way. "A moment," he softly requested. His piercingly blue eyes leveled their gaze once more upon Jack, "I met your father, once…"

Jack stared, and beside him Flau blurted, "You did?"

"We exchanged very few words," the elf solemnly continued. "But I respected his strength as a warrior. I apologize deeply for your loss."

"Thank you," Jack murmured sincerely.

The elf's eyes closed briefly, and it seemed as though he was trying to maintain some level of composure. When he opened his hauntingly blue eyes, he took a breath and spoke again. "I suddenly find myself at a crossroads. With the death of Lord Cepheid, Wind Valley has become sacred grounds where none may enter. And so I, its defender, have no immediate purpose. I therefore must ask of you a favor."

Jack nodded that he was still listening.

"Fight me."

"What?"

"Though I do not doubt your skills as a warrior, I would like to see them for myself. And after, if you manage to defeat me, my loyalty will be yours."

Jack could not say why he agreed. There was something in the elf's voice that tugged at Jack's sense of sympathy, as though there was so much more that the elf could not yet apologize for. And while they battled before the fort's outer wall, Jack marveled at the elf's ferocity, and he wondered at the secret pain hidden deep in those impossibly blue eyes.

The elf fought with elemental magic. His weapon was a sword of ice, which he could summon or discard at will, and yet his favorite attack consisted of hardening the winds into three arched blades that struck as one. Jack felt no sense of triumph when the elf conceded after narrowly avoiding his sword. Breathing heavily, he backed away and let the elf stand.

Those bluer-than-blue eyes struck him with their gaze, and the elf's mouth tilted in an absent half-smile. "Thank you, Jack Russell. And, of course, a promise is a promise. If you wish it, you have my loyalty."

Jack bit at his lip. "What's your name?"

The elf gave an almost inaudible chuckle. "I have lived far too long and taken too many titles to remember my true name. Lord Zane himself has taken to calling me Gil, however, and it never quite occurred to me to argue."

"Gil," Jack repeated, finding a smile of his own. "We're on our way to Goblin Haven, if you want to come with us…"

The light elf nodded, "I said I would follow you. If this is how we shall begin our alliance, then so be it."

~o~

Goblin Haven was found in the midst of Sediche region. It was a foul-smelling place, where the stench of toadstools hung in the air like an ominous plague. Not even the gently falling snow could douse the smell of this strange toadstool-forest.

Coco, who had been quite the little guide, excused himself immediately to return the way they had come. In only a handful of words (which, incidentally, was more than he had spoken during the whole of their journey), he complained against the smell that burned in his nostrils and left.

Gil assured that he knew the way from here. As the light elf led on, Jack could not help but wonder again about their new ally. During their journey, Gil had proven most reliable, ready on Jack's request alone to fall back and protect Coco against the wild animals they had encountered. He had been true to his earlier faith in Jack's abilities, trusting Jack to defend himself against even the fiercest coyotes and tree-beasts… He'd even given Flau space enough to prove herself as well, only ever coming to her aid when she'd called for it after finding herself cornered by two blauniebel.

And so it was that Gil, Jack, and Flau toured the large hovel that seemed to be the center of Goblin Haven. These goblins were not the same as Jack had seen in Shangri La, he noted. Those had been green goblins; these were black. The green goblins had been hyper little things, fond of mischief, while these black goblins were perfectly content to laze about. And Jack found that he really could not blame Coco for fleeing when he had - the foul stench of frying toadstools was even stronger now.

Gil led up a slight rise of the ground, which gave into a second level of the unusually large hovel. They were barely ten steps into the room when suddenly the light elf froze. Jack's steps halted automatically before he could collide with the other's back, and he cast his eyes about the room. "What is it," he heard Flau whisper behind him.

Gil very slightly turned his head, as though he had heard something too mute for human ears. But then he suddenly whirled around and spread his arms wide, and Jack stared as a large fireball exploded against the light elf's back. Gil's face remained smooth, expressionless, but a flash of his eyes revealed he had indeed felt the impact. He lowered his hands and carefully grasped Jack's arms, as though to steady himself. Behind him, his glittering wings flicked in reflex at having received the blunt of the blow, but seemed miraculously unharmed.

With a slowly indrawn breath, the light elf lifted his head. "That was strictly unwarranted, old friend."

Sounds of movement answered his greeting. Anticipating another attack, Jack quickly shoved Gil aside and raced forward, blade flying in an arc that crashed down upon the pole of a giant spiked mace. He could hear Flau's surprised cry, wondered at Gil's lack of response - but then his eyes focused and Jack stared at his foe. A stout, heavily armored man returned his stare. He was bald, but for a high red mohican-cut, and he had a thick red mustache. His eyebrows, equally thick, fell over bright yellow eyes in a curious frown.

"I'll be blasted," the stranger swore, his voice deep and gravelly as though from years of nonuse. "You're the spitting image of Cairn…"

More than a little surprised, Jack lifted his blade and stepped quickly back. "W-who are you?"

The man stood the pole of his weapon to the floor and gave him a direct look. "The name's Gawain, boy. Though I can't say I blame you for not knowing me-"

"I know your name," Jack quietly interrupted, fisting his hands hard around the grip of his sword to still their shaking. "Gawain Rothschild, whose crest descends from the Lion of the West. You knew my father…"

"He was my best friend," the man slowly nodded.

"You were knighted together…"

"Radiata never knew any better."

"And then you betrayed him," Jack hissed, his heart racing, his eyes stinging wetly. "You killed him."

Behind him, Flau let out a choked cry, one that sounded to have been stifled by her own hand. There was nothing from Gil, but a strange stillness, as though the world around him had lost all color and sound and he contented himself to watching its dulled scenery regardless.

Jack could barely acknowledge their presence, all his focus upon the former knight standing before him.

The bright yellow of Gawain's eyes darkened with much guilt, and he looked very troubled indeed. "No, boy," he sighed. "The betrayal falls on me, but not his death. Listen, and I'll tell you the story. If you still think the same of me after I'm done, then strike, and I won't blame you for your revenge."

Hands still shaking, Jack cautiously lowered his blade.

Gawain nodded. "Your father and I each led a brigade of the royal knights, as you probably know. What you won't know is that we were trusted by the fairy creatures, and in the City of Flowers we were allowed to come and go as we pleased. Even the elf elder, Lord Zane, treated us as his friends. But then, sixteen years ago and just before _you_ were born, the Water dragon suddenly appeared.**(3)** Those who knew the legends trembled in fear."

"But dragons don't just attack at random," Jack protested. "They're here to protect."

The former knight nodded again with a heavy sigh, "You're right about that, lad. The Water dragon had come to preserve the cosmic order. Cairn knew this as well as any of us. But he shrugged off all my warnings… Cairn struck down the Water dragon to save his fellow humans. Because of that, the elements became unbalanced within him."

Jack frowned at the unfamiliar phrase. "What does that mean?"

It was Gil that quietly enlightened him; "Your father became infected by the algandars disease."

Jack turned to him in hurt surprise, but the light elf was busying himself by studying a stone goblin statue and would not meet his gaze.

"Yes," Gawain spoke again. "Cairn was now a threat to everything the dragons stood to protect. And to preserve the order of our world, Lord Zane sent out his own assassins to slay his friend. No matter what Zane's personal feelings were, he was forced to act. The orcs' dragon had been slain."

Jack's racing heart had at last begun to slow, and his hands had ceased their trembling. When Zane had first met Jack, he had only believed Jack's word after seeing the pain still shadowing his eyes. Jack now found himself trusting the guilt in Gawain's voice. Glancing down at his blade, he lifted it once more, only to strap it again behind his back. The former knight stared at him with obvious incredulity, but Jack offered him a hesitant smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "It was wrong of me to blame you."

"Not wrong," the man slowly argued. "I would've gladly accepted your revenge. These sixteen years, I'd often prayed for some sort of punishment to balance what had been done to Cairn…"

"I can think of a better balance," Jack found himself saying.

"I'll take anything," Gawain groaned.

"Come back with us to Fort Helencia."

"What?"

"Jack," Flau finally spoke up. "Are you sure?"

He looked from one to the other, and he almost laughed. Both looked extremely surprised and confused. "Parsec must've had a reason to send us here," he pointed out. "Zane's ready to wage war on the humans, and here's an old friend of his that obviously hasn't lost his skill. And you can't argue that we'll probably need all the help we can get."

"Parsec?" Gawain blinked, "The Fire dragon?"

2) You wouldn't believe how hard it was to come up with a new look for Flau, but I hope I did all right…?

3) I know in the game, it was only ten years before the main story that the Water dragon appeared. But this suited my purposes better.


	10. Falling

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Ten - Falling**

Gawain Rothschild proved as ferocious in battle as the lion of his family crest. Any wild animal they happened to cross on their return journey never stood a chance. Jack guessed that perhaps the former knight was running on an adrenaline rush at finally finding a new purpose, and he could not help a small smile each time Gawain raced headlong to confront another blauniebel or two-horned rhino. Flau giggled ecstatically every time, in obvious enjoyment of the man's enthusiasm. Another human friend, Jack mused. The spunky bandit had feared betraying her race - it must have been a relief to know they would not be so completely alone.

Gil, on the other hand, was a being of ethereal calm and quiet. As they journeyed, the humans' feet falling soundly upon the dirt roads, the light elf's wings let him hover alongside them, his toes but inches from the ground. He never joined in conversation unless directly spoken to, and then only when their questions required more of a response than a simple movement of his head. He was polite, soft-spoken, eloquent… In battle, however, he was still that cool and calculative warrior that had tested Jack's abilities. His every attack was incredibly precise, and yet so gracefully maneuvered it was like watching a panther on the prowl.

Jack startled himself out of his own musings, wondering at the source of that last thought. And yet, as he stole another glance at the light elf hovering at his side, he could almost believe it. There was an unfathomable depth to those endlessly blue eyes that seemed to hide much more than Jack could ever begin to guess.

Upon their return to Fort Helencia, a most unexpected surprise awaited them. Jack stared as his former sergeant and squad-mate approached them on the road. Gawain gripped his weapon and gave a low growl; Flau bravely put a hand to his arm and shook her head. Gil cocked his head ever so slightly. "Do you know them," the light elf whispered near Jack's ear.

"Yeah…"

"Are they more allies?" Gawain muttered doubtfully.

Jack gave a saddened sigh, "Probably not."

Jarvis paused, still several paces away, and Daniel fidgeted uncertainly behind his shoulder. "Jack," he greeted, more soberly than ever his former subordinate had seen him. "Everybody's going nuts over your disappearance. On top of that, rumors are flying left and right that you'd sided with the nonhumans." That last word carried just a hint of venom, and his eyes threw a dark glance at the light elf at Jack's side.

Shaking his head, Jack stepped forward. He could feel Flau and Gawain watching, and knew they were ready to strike if he needed them. Curiously, he also felt Gil's eyes on him - _him_, and nothing else - and yet the light elf did not seem unnerved by the confrontation. As though Jack's calm acceptance of his former squad's appearance was enough to assure him of the lack of danger.

"Sir," Jack spoke to the man that had once been his sergeant. "I'm not going back."

The man said nothing for a minute, as though gauging Jack's unworried yet determined expression, and then he let out a sigh of his own. "I expected no less of you, kid," Jarvis commented, and behind him Daniel gave a small whimper.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, sincerely.

"Yeah, well…" Jarvis shrugged, "The Chief wanted us to come and make lies of the rumors being spread about you. She liked you, you know; she knew you'd make something big of yourself. I don't know how I'm going to tell her this…"

"Jarvis…?"

The man looked up, his eyes questioning.

Jack took a breath, "I'm not a traitor. The humans, the fairy creatures… Someone drew that dividing line, but I didn't step over it. Tell Chief Elwen… I'm standing with one foot on either side, and that's where I plan to stay, until that line has been erased, once and for all."

Daniel finally gave in to his tears, but Jarvis stepped forth and heartily clapped a hand to Jack's shoulder. His grin was one of vast approval, but there still lingered a shadow of worry in his eyes. "I'll tell her, kid. Hell, she'd understand something like that. But let me warn you before we go: To the whole of Radiata, you _are_ a traitor to humanity. And if push comes to shove, and you're still straddling that line of yours, they're only going to see you on the other side of it. The higher-ups have passed a decree that you're to be brought in for questioning, but you and I both know that there are those who'd much rather be the ones to see you fall."

Jack nodded that he understood. Not every knight and warrior was as honorable as they claimed, after all. "Thank you, sir."

Shrugging uncomfortably, his former sergeant swore again to deliver Jack's message, and then he and Daniel were walking away, following the roads back to Radiata.

Gawain was the first to break the following silence, announcing that he wanted to find his old friend Zane and officially offer up his services. Flau took Jack into one of her spontaneous embraces, and even pecked him on the cheek before declaring that she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a nice warm bed. Jack watched her go, bemused. The fort had only a few stiff cots**(4)** and a handful of bedrolls to be laid out on the floor, and the spunky bandit well knew it.

Feeling a snug pull within one of his gauntlets, Jack slipped it off and held it up before his eyes. _There_, he noted, reaching in with two fingers to pull out a prickly leaf that had somehow found its way in. Holding it up, he spared a moment to admire it, then flicked it away. Before he could pull the gauntlet on again, however, slim white fingers caught his wrist.

He looked up. Gil very lightly tugged Jack's wrist closer, peering intently at Jack's hand. "Your palm…"

"I cut it defending myself," he answered as softly. The scar left behind was not nearly so painful as the memory that went with it.

Gil carefully traced his fingertips along the marred skin of Jack's palm, his eyes following along as though to search the scar's history. "This was skillfully cared for," he murmured, a hint of respect slipping into his soft lyrical voice.

"Thank you," Jack whispered.

Gil's eyes darted up, flashing with quiet surprise as they met Jack's steady gaze. But then the light elf gave a small half-smile. "A healer's hands are something to be admired. Even, and perhaps especially, with the calluses of a warrior."

He released Jack's hand, and Jack pulled his gauntlet over it once more. Though the sun had long set and the skies were growing darker, he felt no immediate need to rest. He challenged Gil to a bit of friendly sparring, and was pleasantly amazed when the light elf did not bother to hold himself back. As a human among immortals, Jack suspected he would often be underestimated. But Gil, it seemed, knew no such prejudice. To him, Jack was a fellow warrior whose skills were nearly a match for his own… Or so Jack hoped he was proving.

"Sir Jack…?"

He faltered, but quickly tumbled back to avoid another of Gil's strikes. The light elf swiftly realized he was distracted and fell back, giving Jack room to stand. Straightening to his feet, Jack turned to the source of the voice that had uttered the unfamiliar honorific.

It was a young dark elf, perhaps a few years (or centuries) older than little Coco. He was an ashen-skinned youth with blond-streaked brown hair which fell over dark blue eyes that seemed filled with a sense of eternal speculation. Jack felt as though he had seen this dark elf before, and after a moment's consideration was able to piece together the reason. "Y-you're…" He breathed, his heart thumping erratically.

"Mikey," Gil softly provided, sweeping up beside him. "Gatekeeper to the Forest Metropolis." His eyes took in the dark elf's presence, and just a touch of curiosity slipped into his voice. "I believe this is the first I have ever seen you stray so far from your post."

"Hyann agreed to fill in for me," Mikey hesitantly admitted. "I've come to ask a favor of the human champion that would defend us."

Jack blinked at hearing himself being called a _champion_. "What is it?"

The young dark elf turned his gaze upon him. "A quest. There is something I wish to uncover, but I don't dare venture into human territory alone."

"Human-" Jack cut off. "You don't mean Radiata, do you? They'd kill you!"

"I know," Mikey shook his head. "I don't mean to go into their city. They wouldn't have the knowledge I'm looking for, anyway."

Gil arched a slim eyebrow. "Your thirst for knowledge has ever been insatiable, young one," he remarked with not a drop of condescension. "What is it you wish to uncover, this time?"

The dark elf's hesitation was more noticeable this time, as though he feared his answer would be met with harsh judgment. But, apparently, he knew that Gil at least was not one to do such a thing. At last he sighed, "The true birth of the algandars disease…"

~o~

Algandars Castle was on the very southernmost border of the Septem region. Unfortunately, the only roads leading to it did indeed cut through human territory. But together, Gil and Mikey discovered alternate routes through forests and grasslands, and so they encountered very few humans.

Jack found himself defending Mikey whenever a battle could not be avoided. The young dark elf possessed a bit of magic, and so could fight, but it was painfully obvious that he was not meant for it. Because he was so distracted with Mikey's safety, however, he had left no thought for his own. He finally realized the truth of this when Gil suddenly flitted within his line of vision and fended off a smilodon that had lunged for Jack's throat.

"Thank you," Jack panted afterward, deeply chagrined.

But the light elf's faint smile washed away his unease. "You would do the same for me," was Gil's quietly confident response.

It was several days before they reached Algandars Castle, which once housed the last king of the elves. Inside, they encountered and vanquished countless lesser demons. Mikey led an exploration of many corridors, until at last they came to a miniature of the grand hall.

Jack hefted his blade, staring at a demon larger than all the others, which seemed to overwhelm the room with its enormous presence. "W-what is _that_?"

"An archdemon," Gil breathed, his own ice sword materializing in his hands. He turned questioning eyes upon their companion. "Mikey?"

"I-I didn't know it was real," the dark elf whispered, visibly trembling before the creature. "I thought it was a myth…"

"Might you know the way to vanquish it?"

Seeming to take strength from Gil's continued calm, he drew in a breath and nodded. He pointed his finger toward the large glowing crystal orbs that encircled the creature. "They bind the archdemon to our world," the young scholar revealed in a somewhat steadier voice. "Destroy them, and we might be able to send it back."

Jack raced around behind the demon, and he could hear Gil's ice magic clash against the first of the orbs to keep the dark entity distracted. It worked; the archdemon was focused solely on the light elf and looked ready to retaliate with magic of its own. Jack took a stance before the orb closest to him and attacked, causing the thing to turn sluggishly toward him instead. Gil picked up on the tactic immediately, and between the two of them they kept the archdemon too disoriented to launch a decent counter, while Mikey threw his fire magic at it from a safe distance.

The last orb finally shattered, and the archdemon vanished in a cloud of dark smoke, its eerie growls echoing against the walls as it was returned to its own world. When the smoke cleared, Jack stared at the small stone monolith that had been left behind. Mikey boldly stepped forward, and his hands carefully caressed the markings carved into the stone's surface. His fingers brushing along the first couplet of runes, he softly read aloud, "_My body is weakened day after day by the plague of algandars, and yet I am consumed by the ache in my heart_… I-it's a love letter!"

Gil swept forth then, and Jack hesitantly followed. The light elf did not touch the stone, though his eyes raked over its markings in concentration. "It is written by the elf king," he murmured, the slightest tinge of somber awe in his silken voice.

"Yes," Mikey nodded. "Even as he was dying, he thought only of the love he held for his queen, and the sorrow that death would tear them apart."

"The elf king must have been full of regret."

Both Gil and Mikey turned, and Jack realized he had said the words aloud. He would have known a moment of embarrassment, if not for the fact that both elves looked to be taking what he had said into consideration. "Why?" Mikey finally asked.

Jack hesitated, but tried to put his thought into words. "It's a terrible thing to be plagued by algandars," he accepted. "But… I think it must be worse to die and leave your love behind."

Something flashed in Gil's endlessly blue eyes for the briefest instant at that, but then it was gone, and the light elf's face was once again calmly expressionless. Beside him, Mikey wondered, "Do you mean if the parting was so painful, the king shouldn't have met his queen in the first place? Is that what you think?"

"No," Jack answered automatically, then realized it was true. "No," he repeated more strongly. "Even if you know it's not forever, you should never regret having loved someone."

And, as suddenly as that, something dark and weighty at last unclenched its fist from around his own heart. His next breath came much easier than the last, and he realized his lungs no longer felt laced with lead. His mind was flooded with images of a certain blonde beauty, but then they faded all at once, and Jack marveled that he no longer felt immersed in grief to see them go.

Was she letting him go, at last? Was he finally freed from his guilt?

While he was having his staggering epiphany, however, Mikey was already speaking again. "The elf king writes the same thing. Whatever terrible things may happen, even if sorrow is brought to the elves, he will never regret having loved this woman. And if only they make it their mission to do so, the time will come when elves and humans will conquer algandars together."

"Perhaps we have already begun," Gil softly mused.

The dark elf turned to him, and Jack found himself wondering at the unnamed glint in Gil's startlingly blue eyes. "After all," the light elf went on, and that half-smile once more tugged at his mouth. "We are allied by a human who has vowed to erase all lines that divide our races from his own, even while he is being accused of the worst treason."

~o~

The journey back to Helencia was a quiet one. Though Mikey did not uncover anything unknown about the birth of algandars, the dark elf seemed satisfied anyway with the quest as a whole. He parted ways with Gil and Jack in the forests of the Nowem region, thanking them most sincerely before returning to his post as gatekeeper to the Forest Metropolis.

The sun was only beginning to rise when at last Jack and Gil returned to the fort. Though they had rested often enough during their quest, both on the way there and back, Jack felt immensely tired. Exhausted, even. He approached the fort entrance, intent on finding his bed - but then his eyes swam in black, and he suddenly felt his feet give out from under him. He did not think to catch himself in time, could only utter a soft whimper as his head tipped back and he felt himself falling…

4) If you look really closely, you'll see that Jack's "cot" in his room in Fort Helencia is really just two crates stuck together with a bedroll spread on top. Yep, I'm sensing a theme there too. But, for future purposes, let's all pretend it's a duplicate of his bed in Radiata. That _is_ a bed, right?


	11. Into the Night

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Eleven - Into the Night**

_So much cold, like shards of ice, prickled the underside of his very skin. He could feel the cold filling his lungs, taste it in the back of his throat as it washed up and then trickled back down along his veins. And, most painful of all, he felt the skin between his shoulder blades stretching as though ready to tear apart._

_The only warmth came from behind his closed eyelids. His eyeballs were scorching. If he felt he could move at all, it would be to wrench them out of their sockets, just to escape their fire. As it was, a solid weight atop his chest anchored him down to halt his thrashing, and so he could only fist his hands tightly enough that his nails bit into his palms to resist the temptation. His stomach lurched, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered at the taste of copper that had passed over his tongue._

_Tears, burning hot, trailed down his cheeks, and he felt very much alone._

_**Jack**__, a soft voice whispered near his ear, and the ghost of another's fingers swept down the side of his face. The touch was a comfort against the terrible cold._

_He coughed again, hard, the taste of burning liquid escaping with his breath. Still, that other voice murmured gently, as though to keep the worst of it at bay. Yet he could not help arching his back a second time, a cry of pain passing his lips as the skin between his shoulder blades tore again. The weight lifted from his chest and he was quickly turned on his stomach, the movement promptly urging him to cough up again._

_After it had done, he sank again to the floor, swallowing great gasps of air as the terrible cold became suddenly soothing and worked to diligently numb the pain in his back. The fire in his eyes slowly lessened, and the ice beneath his skin worked to douse that as well._

_**Jack**__, that other voice whispered again. A hand swept very lightly over the new skin of his back. __**Jack…**_

~o~

He at last opened his eyes, and was greeted with stunned silence. He glanced about, finding himself on his back again on one of the bedrolls laid out on the floor of the conference room. Zane and Gawain stood across the room, a map spread out on the crates before them, but it was Jack that seemed to demand their attention. A very quiet whimper drew his eyes to his left, where Flau sat on her heels at his side, both hands over her mouth, her face wet with tears. Frowning worriedly, he turned his head to his right. Gil was crouched on one knee, his hand lightly grasping Jack's wrist as though to pin it in place, his fathomless blue eyes watching him in eerie silence.

The light elf warrior seemed to sense the question in Jack's gaze, for he lifted up a shard of reflecting glass in his other hand and held it forth. And Jack stared at what he saw. There was a single streak of blond mixed in with the thick strands of his dark brown hair near the crown of his head, and his skin had began to darken, taking on a slightly golden hue that was most foreign to his kind.

And something else. His eyes had completely changed color.

Instead of the ordinary brown pigment he had inherited from his mother, they were now a piercingly bright color that closely resembled golden amber. Had he not known it to be his own reflection, Jack might have mistaken the image to be that of another.

Tearing his gaze away, he found that the glass reflected something else as equally startling. Jack carefully looked down, lifting his free hand to cautiously feel at the bandages wrapped around his bare torso. "W-what…?"

Flau shook her head, jumping to her feet and crossing the room to stand with Gawain and the elf lord. She was clearly distressed, and Jack did not have to wait to learn why.

"They are for your back," Gil calmly murmured, lowering the shard of glass to the floor.

"M-my back?"

The light elf gave him a strangely somber look. "You do not remember? You tossed in your sleep, your skin is still fevered… Do you not wonder why you are lying so still, as though your instincts are forbidding you from jarring your spine?"

Jack blinked, realizing it was true. He had moved very little since opening his eyes. And the skin of his back did feel taut as a bowstring. Tender, even… He drew in a slow breath, "What happened?"

Though he only wondered at the condition of his back, Gil took it upon himself to answer the bigger question. "You have been unconscious three days now. First you were afflicted with fever, and then you began thrashing about, so much that Sir Gawain worried you might bring injury upon yourself. Even Lord Zane grew concerned after you began vomiting blood-"

"What," Jack choked. "_B-blood?_" He automatically searched the caverns of his mouth with his tongue, fearing the lingering taste of copper.

"I rinsed your mouth with water each time," Gil softly assured.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips. He'd always hated the taste of a bloody mouth. Looking up again, he forced himself to ask, "What, then?"

"You screamed," Flau whimpered from across the room. "It was awful…"

"Yes," Gil sighed. "You worried us immensely. There was such fear and pain on your face, you looked as though you were being tortured. It was only after we saw the blood pooling beneath your back that we realized what had happened."

"What _did_ happen?" Jack asked a second time.

The light elf met his gaze with something akin to sympathy flicking across his usually expressionless face. His voice lowered to little more than a whisper, "The skin of your back split open. Twice. Lord Zane questioned his brother's wisdom; Sir Gawain muttered that you were too young… You were still screaming so terribly that no one would dare approach you, though the blood was pooling freely…"

Jack stared, his eyes finally taking in the light elf's clothes. Dark red stained the front of Gil's hosen from the knees down, and the cuffs of his sleeves. "Gil…?"

"Yes," the light elf said again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You looked to be dying, and your screams nearly had me convinced that you would. But I had pledged my loyalty to you, and you are my friend besides… I could not allow myself to let you die, Jack Russell."

"Friend," Jack repeated, feeling his heart thumping at the word, though he could not say why. "Really?"

Gil's smile widened just a little bit, enough that even his startlingly blue eyes shone with quiet indulgence. "Of course."

~o~

Jack remained bedridden and riddled with fever for a solid three weeks. He fell asleep easily, drifting in and out several times a day. He ate very little, occasionally having to force himself to swallow the broth brewed for him to help restore the blood in his veins. He often had to settle for lying on his stomach, so that his back might heal more readily.

Flau came to him twice a day, but never seemed able to stay long. She explained during one such visit that she had been there to watch him pull himself out of the darkness of his grief, to push through solo missions that he should never have survived… She had even turned her back on the human race for him. But she refused to let the image of him lying there, helpless and wrapped in blood-stained bandages, burn into her mind.

Sir Gawain or the elf lord, or both, were always present. Because his healing back did not allow for him to be moved, he remained in a corner of the conference room. Zane and the former knight busied themselves with their maps and scrolls, quietly talking over war tactics which Jack felt too tired and feverish to bother listening to.

Gil rarely left Jack's side. Jack wondered at this, until late one night he woke up to find the light elf had drifted to sleep, one knee drawn toward his chest, his head tipped back against the wall. Jack glanced down and found his own wrist lightly gripped by slim milk-white fingers. He knew already that Gil needed little rest, less than humans anyway, and he suspected that elves were not heavy sleepers. If he but flexed the muscles of his wrist, Jack was willing to believe that Gil would feel it and come awake in an instant.

He was safeguarding Jack's slumber.

The thought that there was a traitor in their midst was so absurd, Jack never bothered to consider it. But the light elf obviously meant to protect him against _some_thing, and Jack's heart clenched within his chest to realize what that meant. That, somehow, on some level, and without even thinking to try… Jack Russell had penetrated that calm façade that was ever present in the elf warrior's eyes and reached the soul that humbly sought the kind of friend Gil had already claimed to have found in him.

Jack could not help a small smile at that, however impossible the idea, and he let his eyes close once more.

~o~

Weeks later, he was standing shakily upright, his arms bracing him against the wall. He shook his sweat-dampened hair from his eyes, barely noticing anymore that there were now more blond strands than brown, and he met Gil's steadying gaze. Jack bit back a wince as a dark elf named Clarence wetted the last of the bandages and carefully tugged them from around the small of his back. They fell to the floor, and Jack felt Clarence's wet cloth gently sponge away the remaining dried blood. And the tall dark elf suddenly whispered, "_There's_ something you don't see every day…"

"What is it," Gil softly demanded, finally breaking Jack's gaze.

Jack rested his forehead to the wall, muttering a profanity under his breath. The worst he could think it to be was an infection, and he knew he could not soon return to battle with something like that. And, given its location, his healer's hands were virtually useless.

When Clarence failed to answer, Gil moved away from the wall and looked for himself. And Jack did not know whether to laugh or to pray for redemption when he heard his own profanity repeated by that lyrical tongue. Then he felt Gil's fingertips lightly stroke down between Jack's shoulder blades, and Jack sucked in a hiss of breath at the sensation. "What is it," he choked.

"Jack," Gil murmured, something untold in the tone of his voice. "I have never seen a more glorious sight, than the symbol the gods have etched into your back…"

"Nor I," Clarence added as solemnly.

"What do you mean," he wondered, turning his head to glance over his shoulder.

The light elf looked up and met Jack's gaze with a quiet awe in those endlessly blue eyes. And his mouth tilted in that familiar half-smile. "If you had been born with wings," he spoke, his words slow and laced with meaning. "And if those wings had been torn cleanly from your back… The scars left behind would look very much like these."

Jack blinked, his heart racing as he tried to wrap his mind around it. _Wing scars…?_

"Your back is healing nicely, by the way," Clarence chuckled.

~o~

"Wing scars," Gil softly murmured again that night, his fingers sweeping down Jack's back for perhaps the tenth time.

Jack, lying again on his stomach, his cheek atop folded hands, tried not to squirm under the touch of those fingers sweeping along new flesh. His back had healed remarkably well; his wounds had closed very cleanly, leaving the mysterious fresh scars that his light elf companion seemed unable to resist.

But Jack's back now was annoyingly sensitive, and Gil's lightest touch almost tickled.

"Do they really look like I'd once had wings?" He asked now.

Gil cocked his head a bit, as though to look at the marks more closely. "Perhaps they are reminiscent of a previous life."

"But I'm human," Jack protested. "We only live once."

"Do you?" Those fingers lifted from his back, and Gil dropped his hand to his side. "Do you never wonder what you might do differently, had you been given more than this life to make such decisions?"

Jack could not help a shudder, and he turned his head away. "Don't ask me that again. Please."

The light elf was quiet for a moment, but then he touched his hand to Jack's shoulder. "Forgive me, if I have offended you…"

"You didn't," Jack muttered to the opposite wall. Sighing, he closed his eyes. "Gil… Do elves have dreams?"

There was a moment's silence, but when the other warrior answered, it was without skepticism. "Those of us that do are called _seers_. Their dreams speak truth, always, and it would be foolery to ignore their wisdoms."

Jack turned his head again, staring up at Gil with much hurt in his golden amber eyes. "Always?"

The light elf nodded, a very faint frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Jack," he wondered, "why are we speaking of dreams?"

He hesitated, but knew Gil was one who would not judge. Slowly, he painted out the details of his only constant nightmare. During the telling, the light elf's face grew cautiously expressionless. And after, Gil only asked, "And did Lord Cepheid die well?"

"I-I don't know," Jack confessed. "It always starts with him falling behind the cliffs."

Gil was silent for another moment. "And the elf. He was I?"

Sighing, he nodded. "Least, I think so. I mean, you said it was your duty to safeguard Wind Valley, and that was the Wind dragon's haven…" And then, suddenly remembering, he blurted, "I _thought_ you looked familiar when we first met…"

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jack shrugged, feeling a flush of warmth beneath his collar. "It was, uh… your eyes. They're… different… than other light elves'…"

"My coloring does stray from the norm," Gil patiently acceded. "But that is what comes of one who discards the sun's favor for that of the moon…"

"What do you mean?"

The elf warrior gave him an infinitely patient look. "It is a long-forgotten proverb. The sun, warm and fiery bright, represents youth in all its unrefined restlessness. Whereas the moon, soft and cool and comforting, represents the wisdom that comes of age and experience."

"You're saying your coloring changes with age?" Jack blinked, "How old _are_ you, anyway?"

Gil gave an indulgent chuckle, "I am far older than I care to remember, but that is not quite what I meant. There are some few that surpass me, and their coloring will never alter. We are as we are born. Those with hearts filled with the warmth of the sun are yellow-hued. You have seen that this includes most of our race, and this is because in our hearts we wish always to be close to our dark elf cousins, who thrive under the nourishment of the sun and earth. The moon, however, graces those whose hearts are destined to need such undying comfort throughout their continuous years."

Jack's golden amber eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry, Gil. Does… that mean…?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I have known suffering." He paused, adding, "As you seem to, through this dream of yours. The result of an altered decision, perhaps?"

"But I don't want to do things differently," he replied instantly. "I don't want to make the wrong choices and end up betraying everybody like my father."

Something dark and untold flickered within the endless depths of those penetrating eyes. "Cairn Russell was an honorable human. That he succumbed to the madness of algandars does not taint his many other great deeds."

Jack stared, hearing something fierce and loyal beneath the softness of that ever-lyrical tone, and he pushed up on his elbows. "Really?"

"Lord Zane said you mentioned a difference in the way our races mourn." Gil waited until he nodded before adding, "You were right. Sir Cairn was Lord Zane's most trusted friend; it nearly destroyed him to give that order, and to this day he cannot forget." Then the light elf leaned forward, his eyes pinning Jack under their steady gaze. "I see much of Cairn in you, Jack Russell. But I see, also, much _more_ that no other human could dare to equal."

"I'm not," he whispered sullenly. "I'm not as strong-"

"You are agile," Gil kindly interrupted.

"I'm at least a decade younger than most human warriors-"

"Yet you have endurance."

"I never know if I'm doing the right thing-"

"Ah," the light elf's half-smile returned. "But you never fail to follow your instincts. You hesitate, you experience fear, but you are no coward. Your skills with a weapon are finely honed, and I have never known a human to be so knowledgeable about medicinal remedies, nor to have so sensitive an awareness of the elements."

His head moved even closer, until there was but a breath's reach between them. "In short, Jack Russell, you are a power unto yourself."

And then the light elf bent his head and lightly swept his lips against the human's. Jack drew in a sharp breath, and Gil daringly brought their mouths together in a truer kiss. His mouth slanted over Jack's, first capturing one lip and then the other, tasting and tugging. And then his tongue, cool and slick and questing, touched against Jack's lower lip.

"Open for me," Gil moaned. "Jack, open your mouth and let me in." The plea was spoken in a rasping voice that was so unlike the light elf's lyrical tones that Jack immediately complied, digging his palms into his bedroll and lifting himself higher, pressing himself closer.

With a surprisingly low groan, Gil sent his tongue into Jack's mouth - twirling, seeking, stroking. His hand lifted to the back of Jack's head, fingers twining amongst blond-streaked strands of brown, seizing Jack in a silent command not to move again. Soon Jack felt bold enough to meet Gil's questing tongue with his own; those gripping fingers pressed harder against the back of his skull, and another moan passed between them. Jack could not tell anymore whether it was Gil this time, or himself.

When at last the light elf broke away, Jack sucked in a great breath, his head dizzy and his lungs aching after the prolonged lack of sufficient air. Gil's fingers slackened their grip, but he tipped his forehead against Jack's brow, their panting breaths mingling.

"Damn," Jack gasped, breaking the silence.

Gil lifted his head to meet the other's stare, that almost-smile tilting his mouth, though somehow the amusement did not reach his eyes. "Forgive me," he uttered, even while his fingers worked at the back of Jack's skull as though they would pull him in once more. "I have wanted to know the taste of you for some time…"

Before Jack could answer, before he could wonder what he might say, another light elf slammed the door open and flitted across the room toward them. Gil immediately straightened away, and Jack turned his head to see that it was one of the gatekeepers to the City of Flowers, the one named Shin. If this light elf warrior had seen how close they were but moments ago, or noticed how reluctantly Gil's hand had finally left Jack's hair, he seemed too distracted to comment.

Gil picked up on that distraction as well. "What is it, Shin?"

"Lord Parsec has been attacked by the humans!" The other light elf announced without preamble.

"What?" Jack carefully turned over and sat up, only wincing a little at how the movement pulled at the new skin of his back. "Is he all right?"

"We don't know," Shin quickly shook his head. "But our messengers say he's been driven into Fire Mountain."

A sense of purpose, larger than any he'd experienced thus far, flared within his chest, and he tossed a meaningful glance in Gil's direction. The blue-toned light elf did not protest, did not remind Jack that he was still fevered, still healing, still recovering his strength. In fact, Gil said nothing at all. He only wordlessly pulled Jack to his feet, and even helped him into his armor. Lastly, Gil strung Jack's blade behind his own back; he then motioned Shin forth, and between them they lifted Jack from the floor, gliding out of the conference room, out of Fort Helencia, and into the night.


	12. The Sword

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Twelve - The Sword**

The Fire Mountain was pulsating with much heat and power, so that even the skies seemed to have been dyed red with its hidden inferno.

Of all the mysterious and majestic places Jack had discovered in his travels, he likened to this one least of all. It was alive with the element of fire, a power which pressed in on Jack so that even the air in his lungs burned. Yet he resisted the urge to turn back - Parsec was the last of the dragons; there must be _some_one to come to his aid.

Gil and Shin flew him straight for the mountain, and they entered through a cave near its lava-surrounded base. Inside, it was smoldering hot, and there were blood orcs everywhere. Jack clenched his teeth angrily, memories flashing across his mind's eye. But he knew his strength just now was damnably limited, and there was something much more important he had come to do.

They reached the very core of the mountain, a chamber that had been closed off with very large doors. Doors which were currently guarded by a handful of Radiata knights. Shin gave Jack over to Gil, himself soaring forth to distract the humans while Gil led Jack around to a smaller side-door that human eyes would not have been able to discover on their own. They crept in.

Jack was suddenly struck with a terrible sense of déjà vu. For there was Parsec, a dragon, cornered by the knight named Cross Ward, who had been the one to lead the massacre of the dwarves, and who had helped to slaughter the Earth dragon. With him was an older man in armor whom Jack had never before met but knew immediately to be the legendary General Dynas. Gil immediately engaged Dynas in battle, while Jack raced forth and placed himself in between Cross and the Fire dragon.

The darker knight recognized him right away. "_You_? Why are _you_ here? Stay out of my way!"

"Lord Parsec is the last," Jack argued, easily catching his blade when Gil tossed it to him. "If he dies, the balance will be broken."

"Whatever nonsense you're prattling about," Cross scoffed, "it makes little difference. We were sent to slay the dragon, and the likes of _you_ and your little elf friends will not stop me!" And with no more warning than that, he leapt into an attack.

Jack's fever might have dwindled his strength considerably, but it took very little to defend himself. He avoided Cross' blade, staggering only when he was forced to give ground, and he lifted his blade to meet each blow, despite the force of Cross' strength that sent tremors up his arm whenever their weapons collided.

It was a tedious battle, and sweat beaded Jack's brow long before its end. Eventually Shin was available to relieve Gil of own fight with Dynas, and the blue-toned light elf came immediately to Jack's aid. Jack's wind-imbued blade had snapped in two under the might of Cross' weapon, and the battle had exhausted him far beyond his endurance. He had fallen to his knees on the cavern floor. Cross tauntingly nicked Jack's thigh with the tip of his blade, then kicked him aside and approached the Fire dragon.

Gil gave chase and flew to Parsec's defense. But Cross had already plunged his blade into the dragon's throat and dragged it down toward his shoulder. Parsec perished amidst blood-curdling roars and a burst of flames. Shin flew into a rage and attacked Dynas with renewed vigor. Gil briefly closed his eyes and prayed that Parsec's soul would rest someplace peaceful.

Hearing approaching footsteps, Jack looked up to find that Cross was standing over him again, a cold sneer on his face. "The humans have won. Your precious goblins, your elves, all the nonhumans- We will trample them into the dirt like cockroaches! Just like we did with your Adele."

Jack's heart froze within his chest, and he glared fearfully up at the knight. "W-what did you say? What have you done with my sister?"

Cross gave a bark of a laugh. "The adventure's over, boy. Let's see if you can at least die properly." And he lifted his blade high.

Gil was there in an instant, his ice sword cutting across the darker knight's chest plate and driving him back. Cross stumbled back with a muttered curse. But then Dynas was shouting for a retreat, and they both rejoined their comrades outside the chamber, even as they were herded out with shards of focused lightning.

"Shin," Gil softly called, and the younger elf gave up his chase to return to his elder's side. Shin tore a scrap from his own tunic to wrap the cut in Jack's leg, and then they both were lifting him up again into the air.

There was nothing more they could do.

~o~

Flau cussed a string of profanities and demanded to hear everything when they returned to Fort Helencia. Jack could not bring himself to answer her curiosity. His heart was already heavy with another worry. While Shin explained, Gil helped Jack to lie back on the grass, where the light elf warrior unknotted the bandage on his leg. "I did not have the skill to help your back," he muttered, slipping the bandage free. "But I _can_ offer you this…"

He pressed his palm atop the cut in Jack's thigh. Jack flinched, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out, but Gil did not remove his hand. His touch suddenly became like ice, and Jack shivered as he felt its liquid power seep into his wound, sealing it from within. Though Gil was obviously harnessing the elemental magic of water, Jack felt no burn of rejection. Their friendship, and the light elf's strict control, ensured that his touch did not harm, but heal.

"At least your fever has broken," Gil commented, finally lifting his hand.

Jack let out a shuddering breath as the blood in his veins was once again allowed to warm his insides. He tipped his head back upon the grass and at last gave in to the demands of his exhaustion. He fell asleep with his sister's name on his lips.

He awoke again some hours later to sunlight and shadows. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up to find Gil standing over him, facing away and brandishing his ice sword in a cautious manner. The light elf sensed right away that Jack was no longer asleep, turning his head ever so slightly to glance down at Jack with those bluer-than-blue eyes.

"Master Jack," spoke another, familiar voice he had not thought to hear again. "Please explain to him that we mean you no harm."

Jack blinked, pushing up on his elbows. "C-captain?"

Ganz Rothschild offered a shaky smile in response. He was garbed in old blue armor that was very unlike the knightly attire in which Jack had last seen him, and his hair fell messily across his brow. Beside him stood a woman with long blue hair and a green bandana, who wordlessly studied Jack with calculative grey eyes.

Gil, having heard the note of surprised recognition in Jack's voice, finally ceased the magic that had forged his weapon. Turning, he took ahold of Jack's wrists and helped him to his feet, hands bracing Jack's shoulders when the sudden change of position threatened his equilibrium.

Jack tossed him a grateful glance, then focused his eyes forward once more. "Where have you been, Captain? You promised to write, but I never received any letters."

"Well, it's a long story," the man smiled sheepishly. "But before we get into that, I have something that I think will make you feel _much_ better."

Jack turned his head toward the sound of approaching footsteps, and his heart leapt into his throat. Her simple green dress was new, but no other woman in the world had such a gentle smile under such sparklingly intelligent brown eyes. "_Adele?_"

"Jack!" She cried, coming forth to throw herself into his arms. With Gil's hands bracing him from behind, Jack held his sister as tightly as he could. He had not seen her for many months, and to know that Cross' threat over him was now an empty one… When at last he could pull away and hold her at arms' length, he saw her tears and knew no shame to feel his own streaming down his face.

"Look at you," Adele murmured, her fingers reaching up to touch the blond strands that had nearly dominated the brown of Jack's hair. "Your coloring is so golden, and your eyes…" But then she smiled, as he had never doubted she would do, and she said, "You look good."

"What about you?" Jack had to know, "Did they hurt you?"

"They tried," she grinned. "Apparently, no one thought to inform them exactly who taught _you_ to fight."

Jack could not help but laugh at that, his relief still very palatable, and he pulled her to him again. He was elated, ecstatic, euphoric. A very small voice in the back of his mind wondered how Cross Ward would react once he discovered his threat over Adele was no longer in play, but for the moment he stubbornly told that voice to shove it.

"Ganz? Rynka?"

He lifted his head to find Flau racing across the grassy courtyard. Jack's former captain and his blue-haired companion welcomed her with smiles and open arms. Flau caught Jack's stare, and she gave a mischievous grin. "You have no idea how hard it was not to tell you."

"You knew where he was this whole time?"

"Well, not _all_ the time," she argued with her fists on her hips, teasingly indignant. "Sometimes we were on separate hits, and of course I left the city with you, so I can't possibly know what he's been up to since…"

Jack got the point.

Ganz patiently shared his tale. After he had failed the test at Theatre Vancoor, a strange turn of events had landed him with the Void Community instead. Flau and Rynka were his constant companions, though admittedly Flau disappeared on occasion to oversee a personal matter (Jack felt a flush of warmth creep up his throat, knowing where Flau had disappeared to). Ganz did not quite approve of his new job, but finding himself in the company of _honorable_ bandits had enlightened him a great deal. He had strived never to disappoint them.

After Flau had disappeared for good - having left the city with the 'traitorous' Jack Russell - Ganz and Rynka had been put on assignment to sniff out some information on a handful of the nobles housing up in the royal castle. They had followed a trail thick with dishonesty and black deeds, one that had led to none other than Captain Cross Ward. A man with a most terrible secret.

"What?" Jack frowned. "What secret?"

Ganz hesitated, "Do you remember our last assignment as the Rose Cochon? Have you never wondered at that blood orc's appearance, so far from its natural territory? Or how Sir Cross had arrived so suddenly, despite his claim to have been on assignment elsewhere?"

Jack's blood ran cold to finally learn the truth, and his hands fisted at his sides. "_He_ sent that blood orc there! _He's_ the reason we lost Ridley!"

"Yes," his former captain sighed, solemnly. "Rynka and I infiltrated the castle to find out more about what Sir Cross was up to. That's when we discovered that Miss Adele was being held prisoner there. I knew that before we did anything else, we had to rescue my friend's sister."

"Captain…"

Ganz smiled, "Once we got her out of the castle, we brought her straight here to you, Jack."

"Thank you," he replied sincerely. Then, being sure to include Adele in his glance as he spoke, he added, "But I don't know that this would be the best place. We're at war now, and fearing for my sister's life once already was more than enough."

Though Adele had looked ready to argue against his point, it took only his reluctant confession at the end to quiet her. "But where will I go?"

"The Void Community will hide you," the one called Rynka finally spoke up. "You would not be the first to have need of our protection. We will keep you where none but friendly eyes can find you."

"Not without me, you don't!"

Jack turned, staring. "Flau?"

"Oh, don't look at me like that," she smiled, shyly apologetic. "It's been fun being with you, but my place is with Void. You've found your way now - you can still keep going, even without me."

"Are you daring me to stand on my own two feet?" He challenged, unable to help a small smile.

"If it's too much for you…" She trailed off, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, but slowly stepped forth. Gil's hands, which the whole time had kept him steady, now slipped silently from his back. Jack felt the loss as he would had his own hands been severed at the wrists, but he stood firm. "Dare me."

Flau laughed delightedly through her tears, pulling him into her tight embrace one more time. And then she was dragging Ganz by the arm, declaring she would _not_ allow herself to leave until he met another of their allies. Jack wondered if he should warn his former captain, but decided he could not bring himself to ruin the spunky bandit's fun.

"Adele," he softly asked instead. "Would you take our father's sword with you?"

Her sister nodded, "But, why?"

"I'm stronger than when I left home." Jack sighed, "But I still don't deem myself worthy to wield the _Arbitrator_. I don't believe I ever will."

Adele's soft brown eyes held nothing but endless understanding, and she nodded again. And so Gil helped Jack to enter the fort and retrieve the sword from his belongings. By the time Rynka and Flau were ready to take Adele someplace where she might hide in safety, the _Arbitrator_ was wrapped in oiled leathers and bound in twine. She held it tight against her in both hands, kissed Jack on the cheek, and followed the two bandits away with tears streaming again down her face.

~o~

"Jack," Gil said. "If any but you were to have wielded that blade, it would have been blasphemy."

Jack had come to understand that the light elf held nothing but respect for Cairn Russell, and so his words now were the highest compliment. "Thank you."

"Where is _your_ sword?"

He automatically reached over his shoulder, though in his mind he already knew it was not there. When his fingers closed around nothing, he caught up with himself. "It's gone," he muttered, dropping his hand. "Broken, while I was fighting Cross in the Fire Mountain…"

The light elf looked thoughtful for a moment, but then he nodded. "Have you no other weapon?"

Jack sighed, "No."

"I know of another blade," Gil offered. "Gifted with power by the Wind dragon himself. If you wish it."

_By the Wind dragon._ "But where would we find such a weapon?"

"On sacred ground," the light elf replied simply.

It took a minute for Jack to realize why those words sounded familiar. "That was how you described Wind Valley!"

"Yes."

"You want me to set foot on sacred ground?"

Gil shook his head. "As its defender, only I may enter there. But ask it, and I will retrieve for you the sword."


	13. Ever Yours

_**Title:**__ Last Dance of Chances_

_**By:**__ Aina Song_

_**Fandom(s):**__ Radiata Stories_

_**Genre:**__ Yaoi_

_**Rating:**__ NC-17 (Um… eventually…)_

_**Warning(s):**__ Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill._

_**Pairing(s):**__ Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil_

_**Reviews:**__ Yes, please._

_**Author's Note:**__ Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Thirteen - Ever Yours**

The moon had nearly reached the peak of its climb across the night sky. Jack was sitting on his bed in simple white nightclothes, awake and waiting. While the rest of the fort slept, he sat gazing out of his window and watched the stars blink in and out of view around the pale moon.

A soft knock sounded upon the door. It did not surprise him when he answered it to find Gil standing on the other side, one arm folded behind his back.

"Might I enter?"

Nodding, Jack stepped back to let the light elf in, quietly closing the door behind him and sitting again upon his bed. There was a strangely solemn light in Gil's eyes, though the rest of his face remained expressionless, as he brought his arm from behind his back. Across both palms lay the blade he had disappeared all afternoon to retrieve.

Dark violet in color, its ethereal blade seemed forged of the same magic that gave light elves' wings their iridescent shimmer. It was smaller in size than Jack's previous blade had been, but it looked incredibly light and easy to wield. And when he lifted it up in his fist, a familiar tingling shot up toward his elbow as though in recognition of an old friend.

"It is called _Jinn_," Gil softly revealed, his eyes watching as Jack turned his hand this way and that to get a better look at it. "Every dragon has one treasured possession, even if they never have a need for it, and this was Cepheid's."

"Are you sure I should be the one to wield it," Jack wondered, albeit reluctantly. "I don't want to see you get into trouble for this."

"I alone knew Cepheid better than any other. Even Lord Zane cannot claim such knowledge of our dragon guardian. Therefore, I alone may decide who receives his gifted blade."

Jack stared in quiet alarm as the light elf slowly sank to the floor on one knee. "Gil…?"

"I have held onto this black secret for sixteen years," the light elf confessed, eyes downcast. "And now that the son of Cairn is a warrior fully capable of the deed, I request that he take his revenge upon his father's murderer."

The _Jinn_ was dropped clattering to the floor. Jack sat forward and grasped Gil's shoulders. "W-what are you saying? Gawain told me that Zane's assassins killed my father."

"Jack," the light elf sighed, lifting his eyes to meet the other's stare directly. "_I_ am Zane's assassin. I am, and have ever been, his _only_ assassin."

A dark silence fell heavily between them, as Gil's words sank in. Jack drew trembling hands away and sat back. His eyes stung threateningly as he stared at his friend, and his heart hammered within his chest.

"You…?"

"Yes," the light elf nodded solemnly. "Cairn Russell died by my hands alone." He hesitantly lifted a hand to touch his fingers against the vivid red scar beneath his left eye. "It was your father that had marked me with this…"

Jack's blood rushed quite suddenly from his head, and his skull throbbed numbly. Closing his eyes, striving to keep breath passing through his lungs, he forced his mouth to form the question: "Why didn't you tell me?"

Gil quietly climbed upon the bed, moving on his knees until he sat upon his heels before Jack. "I will not desecrate Cairn's death with a mere apology. And I dare not ask your forgiveness."

A single tear escaped Jack's forbiddance; Gil's eyes - which never missed anything - traced the tear's silent path as it slid quickly down his cheek, passing over the corner of his lips as it fell toward his chin. Jack opened his eyes in time to watch the light elf lift his hand, as though to catch that tear with his fingers. But then Gil dropped his hand again to his side and let it be.

Jack suddenly made a pained sound in his throat, and in the next instant he had lurched forward and was kissing Gil full on the mouth. A quick intake of breath was the only indication of Gil's surprise, but the light elf did not pull away. Gil's hands came up to cradle Jack's jaw, and he tilted his head to return the favor, swallowing the lingering taste of salt that the single tear had left behind.

Jack pulled back a little, his eyes searching Gil's. "Is this all right…?"

"Yes," Gil hissed, moving forward and capturing Jack's mouth in another kiss. He made claim of the human with his mouth; there was nothing gentle in his kiss, only an underlying sense of desperation. Jack's mouth opened under his, and the light elf drank him in. He mined that mouth with his lips and with his tongue, driving into its recesses, calling to Jack's tongue in a primitive mating ritual that seemed older than time itself.

And then Gil rose up on his knees, gently moving Jack with him until his back was carefully pressed up against the wall. His hands crept down until his fingers brushed the collar of Jack's nightshirt, and he broke the kiss to look at Jack with questioning eyes as his fingers toyed with the collar's leather strips. Jack nodded. The strips came loose, and Gil drew slightly away to pull the shirt over Jack's head. And his eyes feasted upon smooth, golden skin under which stretched cords of subtle muscle that had been honed by countless battles.

Gil lightly took hold of Jack's wrists and lifted them up, pinning them to the wall on either side of his head, and then that mouth descended upon his shoulder. The shock of Gil's lips upon his skin was unanticipated, but Jack could not summon the will to protest. And then came the teeth. Jack could feel his skin flush with warmth, even as the light elf nibbled a trail along his shoulder toward his throat.

Jack's heart was pounding unsteadily in his chest by the time those exploring lips found their way to his mouth again, and those teeth pulled at Jack's lower lip. "Jack," the light elf moaned against his mouth, and that raspy quality of before had snuck again into his usually lyrical voice. "Tell me you are not an innocent…"

Jack's eyes flew open, and he stared as Gil drew away to search his startled gaze. Gil let out a very soft groan, "You are."

Sucking in a deep breath, Jack nodded.

"Not even with Flau? Or that other one you mourn so dearly?"

"Flau is like another sister to me," Jack whispered, swallowing. "And I never realized I'd cared for Ridley, until I awoke that morning to find she'd died during the night."

A look of sympathy flicked across those endlessly blue eyes. "Jack… I cannot promise to be gentle…"

Realizing what the light elf was proposing, Jack's heart leapt uncertainly. But, "I don't know if I want you to be gentle, Gil. Please."

After a long minute, the light elf released Jack's wrists and shifted back, straightening to his feet on the floor. "Lie down," he quietly instructed. "On your back."

Jack complied, eyes never leaving the elf as his head fell back atop his pillow. An intense look filled Gil's eyes, and he slowly dragged the nail of one finger down the center of his own shirt. The magic threads binding the cloth together fell apart at his silent command, and Jack stared at the pale sleek chest that was revealed underneath. The light elf did not pause there; he wordlessly stripped of all his clothes, letting them fall to the floor around his feet. And Jack found himself marveling such marble-like perfection. Gil's body, even his sex, was hairless - and yet Jack could not turn his eyes away.

Gil was an embodiment of otherworldly splendor.

The light elf moved over him then, legs straddling Jack high on his hips. He again caught Jack's wrists to either side of his head, and the light elf bent low to let his mouth and tongue taste the very center of Jack's bare chest. Jack gasped, surprised by his own sensitivity, back arching upward as though drawn into Gil's kiss. Gil moved his head, tongue finding and tasting a caramel nub that swiftly pebbled under the attention. Jack choked on a small cry, feeling his nerves become like needles in that one area, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

As Gil switched to Jack's other nipple, he slowly stretched out his legs behind him. His pelvis lowered against the front of Jack's night pants, and Jack sucked in another hiss of breath as Gil ground his hips down against him. Catching his lower lip between his teeth, he slid one leg apart from the other, hooking it over the back of Gil's calf.

Gil lifted his head, blue eyes smoldering, and he moved his hips again. Jack let out a low whimper, bringing his own hips up to meet the friction. The light elf made a noise in response, somewhere between a groan and a fierce growl of pleasure, and he captured Jack's mouth once again, tongue driving in and demanding a playmate. They rocked together, maddening heat building between them as their mouths clashed together again and again.

Jack fisted his hands as the friction grew, wishing he could take hold of the body above him and draw it even closer. Yet Gil's hands anchored his wrists down, with a tender yet unmoving grip. Hips still moving, he grazed his teeth along Jack's jaw to attack his young lover's throat with lovebites.

"G-Gil," Jack eventually pleaded. "Gil… I-I…"

The light elf suddenly stopped grinding, bringing both of Jack's wrists over his head and pinning them down with one hand. Lifting slightly away, he slid his other hand between their bodies and caught hold of Jack's night pants. He tugged them down over his young lover's hips and took Jack's sex into his fist. Jack cried out, pushing himself closer to that touch and begging for release. Gil's eyes watched him as he responded to the hand that pumped him. And Jack, feeling that penetrating gaze upon him, succumbed to Gil's ministrations and with another cry he came - hard and fast and all over Gil's hand.

While Jack gasped for breath, his every nerve singing with aftershock, Gil lifted his hand away. He leaned over Jack, bringing his coated fingers between them, and his eyes were intense with the silent command. And so Jack opened his mouth, flicking his tongue out to taste of his own essence. Gil gave a low growl at the sight, and he touched his own tongue to the back of his thumb. Together, they cleansed Gil's hand of Jack's fluid, a shared task which was strangely erotic and fed fire to the electricity already hanging in the air.

After, Jack was ready for more, and the smooth hardness pressing against his thigh confirmed that Gil was not unaffected either. He at last released Jack's wrists, sitting back on his knees to tug once more at Jack's night pants. Jack shifted helpfully, and the cotton pants were dropped to the floor.

Gil moved over him yet again, his hands and knees bracing himself some inches above the length of Jack's body. "Touch me, Jack," he rasped now. "I want to feel your hands upon me…"

Above his head, Jack's fists flexed uncertainly. But then, slowly, he reached up and let his fingers brush lightly down the center of Gil's bare torso. The light elf shivered at the burning contact, but his endlessly blue eyes never left Jack's as those fingers gained more confidence in their exploration. Jack's brow had become beaded with sweat, and he absently tossed his blond-and-brown strands from his golden amber eyes, all his concentration on fulfilling the light elf's request. He let his hands roam where they would; over shoulders, across pectorals and sliding down the sides of strong ribs, then up again over the light elf's flexed back.

His fingertips skimmed the base of Gil's wings; he felt a pulse of the power that shimmered through them, before they fluttered shyly from his touch. Biting his lip, he heeded his lover's reflex and moved his hands away. He skimmed his touch down Gil's sides and furthered his exploration of Gil's torso. When his fingers very lightly brushed over a pebbled nub, Gil tensed and drew an audible breath through his teeth. Emboldened, Jack pushed up on his elbow and showed all he had learned from Gil's earlier lovebites, nibbling and tasting at Gil's collarbone until the light elf was virtually growling under every breath.

At last Gil's control broke, and he ravaged Jack's mouth, plunging his tongue in and claiming it mercilessly. Jack pulled the light elf down against him, nails digging into the flesh of Gil's back, and he uttered a small whimper when the light elf slowly nudged a knee between his legs.

"Do you want this, Jack," Gil growled against his young lover's mouth. "To feel me inside you? Feel me stretch you, fill you…?"

"Yes," he pleaded, parting his legs wide and arching up into the body crushing down on him. "Anything. Everything."

Gil slid his hand down Jack's abdomen, fingers barely grazing the human's sex as they inched toward the pucker hidden underneath, where they circled with slowly increasing pressure until Jack was left squirming under his touch. "I cannot promise to be gentle," he warned one more time.

"I don't care," Jack gasped, the nails of his own fingers digging into the muscles of Gil's shoulders. "I told you, I don't want gentle. I want _you_."

His skin burned as though set afire, and the perspiration that had begun on his brow had now crept down his neck to spread its wet beads over his collarbones. Gil dipped his head, tongue flicking out to lap at that saltiness, and Jack swore under his breath. And then the tip of Gil's finger pushed into him, and he repeated his profanity with more fervor.

The light elf did not protest the nails clutching his flesh, instead moving his mouth to Jack's throat and growling, "You invite pain if you resist me…"

Jack gave a jerky nod, his hands at last releasing Gil's arms to tunnel their fingers instead into cool strands of silvery green silk, and he dragged in a large breath as he tried to relax his muscles. The finger pushed further in, then twisted. When Jack could not stifle a sudden cry at the feeling, Gil lifted his head and devoured the human's mouth. Jack clung to him, the mating of their tongues a heady distraction from the finger that assaulted him.

He could not say if he was better prepared when that finger was joined by another, but his back arched to invite their invasion. Gil made a soft noise of approval, skimming his mouth along his lover's jaw to sink his teeth into the lobe of Jack's ear. The two fingers twisted and cut apart, and Jack's nerves _were_ pinched with some pain, but he pushed himself down upon those fingers and almost swore again when they left him.

But then Gil lifted his head, dark blue eyes smoldering and intense as he settled himself between Jack's thighs, his sex nudging against the entrance that had been so hastily prepared for him. Jack's hands returned to gripping the muscles of Gil's arms; he closed his eyes to hide from that penetrating gaze. Gil bucked his hips against him, the tip of his sex pushing past the ring with one thrust, and Jack's eyes flew open again. "Look at me," the light elf demanded, equally breathless. "Let me see what I do to you."

Jack clenched his teeth, but he nodded. Gil rewarded him, remaining still until the ring of Jack's entrance loosened just a little around him. Then he plunged forward, burying all of himself within the hot, quivering body beneath him. Jack cried out, and a sudden shivering of his spine urged his back to arch higher.

Despite all his warnings, Gil's eyes flashed with passion-clouded concern in the face of his young lover's obvious pain, and he let out a strained breath as he began to back his hips away. But Jack made a strangled sound of protest in his throat, and his legs came up and wrapped around Gil's waist, locking the light elf in place. "I don't want gentle," he panted yet again, glaring up at Gil through sweat-dampened strands of brown and blond. "And you're _not_ leaving me like this."

Gil paused for a long moment, but then his eyes sparked with approval and much heat, and he plundered that mouth with his tongue as his hips began to move. A surprisingly guttural sound gurgled up from within Jack's throat, and he lifted his own hips to meet him. Gil rocked against him, thrusting gradually harder and faster, using reserves of strength no other would have been able to receive, and yet Jack did not hesitate to cry for more.

The light elf was most accommodating to his young lover's every request, and every bit as merciless as he had insinuated himself to be. His sex ravaged Jack's insides, finding and impaling that bundle of nerves hidden far within. And when the end drew near, Gil lowered himself atop the human and used the length of his body to increase the heat and friction of their play. Jack swore, his throbbing and neglected sex caught between them, and he did not know whether to beg for release or to cling to the light elf above him in hopes of prolonging the torture.

Gil, realizing his turmoil, growled low in Jack's ear, "I forbid you to resist me. Give me your all!"

Jack tried to argue, "B-but you haven't-"

He roared something scalding and thrust deeper, destroying Jack's restraint. Jack wailed in agony and succumbed to the light elf's demand, his seed washing up between them. His muscles clamped vengefully around the sex still stroking his insides, and Gil at last gave in to his young lover's plea, sharing the moment of release.

After, as all became still once more, the light elf lifted his head and captured Jack's mouth one more time. His kiss was hot and searing, but infinitely gentler now that the fever of their play had passed. Jack tunneled his fingers through Gil's silvery green strands, spending the very last of his energy to battle his tongue against Gil's in a futile fit for dominance. And then Gil dropped his brow again to the cove of Jack's shoulder, and even his glittering wings drooped wearily against his back.

~o~

_His dream had shifted again. Those startlingly blue eyes that had haunted him so often - eyes that now he could identify as his lover's - swept so close that his vision was filled with nothing but their steady and unsettling gaze. He stared into those eyes, sinking, drowning, within their infinite gaze._

_He could not look away, even as those eyes suddenly changed. Their eternally provocative blue color shifted seamlessly into a penetrating shade of green, and then they became an inexhaustibly patient hue of violet. Lastly, those eyes became like his own, a once-brown tint which now shone like golden amber._

_And then, as though from a great distance, he could almost make out the echo of a strangely powerful voice. And though the words were unlike any he had ever heard, his heart raced in ancient recognition._

"_**Lafya ma quaiha sajek caifout… Lucieh curamu kholsk tem sula…"**_

~o~

"Jack, Jack, come back to me," whispered another more familiar voice, one that urged him to obey. As though breaking the surface of murky grey waters, he gasped in a great breath and blinked his eyes open.

Gil leaned over him, endlessly blue eyes filled with such stark emotion. Once the light elf realized his young lover was awake, he lowered himself atop Jack and buried his face into the cove of Jack's shoulder, pulling him close. "Jack," he rasped. "_My_ Jack…"

The human carefully caged his arms around Gil's back, knowing much surprise to feel the light elf trembling against him. "W-what is it? What happened?"

"_You_ happened," Gil breathed, turning his head to slide his lips across the side of Jack's throat. "Jack, what did you dream tonight?"

He frowned up at the ceiling, trying to remember. "Eyes… yours, Zane's, even Nogueira's… A-and then a voice. It… It sounded so familiar…"

"_Lucieh curamu kholsk tem sula_," Gil softly quoted against the skin of Jack's throat. "You spoke it in your sleep. It is ancient Elvish, in its purest form, very different from the dialect shared by my younger kin. It means-"

" '_For I shall placate my felled brethren'_," Jack whispered, nodding. "I don't know how I knew that, but I did."

"I might have guessed sooner," the light elf went on. "The wing scars… They are a holy sign, even and especially on a human's back. That, and the fever which has so dramatically altered your coloring…" Gil finally lifted his head, gazing down at Jack with a quietly solemn look. "Jack… Forgive my curiosity, but you _were_ there with her the moment your Ridley died, were you not?"

"Yeah," he sighed, the memory now only a dark shadow in the back of his mind. "I was there."

"By Lord Nogueira's transpiritation, your Ridley received the soul of an elf. But when her body failed her in the end, that transferred soul must have swiftly found another vessel to preserve itself from forever disappearing." Gil's bluer-than-blue eyes searched Jack's of golden amber, "Do you understand?"

"You're saying… That when Ridley died that night, that other soul… _jumped_, from her to me…?"

"Yes," Gil nodded. "But because yours is a strong soul that needed no rescuing, that impromptu transfer weighed heavily within your being until finally you were taken with fever so that your two souls could at last come together."

Jack stared, "A-and… the wing scars?"

The blue-toned light elf was quiet for a moment, and then asked a question of his own. "Can you think of no reason such a holy mark would claim you?"

His heart racing, Jack struggled to make sense of what his lover was trying to tell him. True, he had not felt entirely himself since Ridley's death, but he had always attributed that to his suffocating grief. Then he had come here to the elflands, for no other reason than some unexplained tether had pulled him in that direction. And lastly, after the fever that had caused his body to react so violently and left his back torn with wing scars, he had slowly begun to feel more at home within his own body…

_Without the humans to serve as their vessel_, Parsec had warned, _the Twin dragons can never awake… But the time of the Golden dragon is close…_

And that other soul which had spoken to him in his dream - _"For I shall placate my felled brethren…"_

Jack's flesh grew suddenly cold, and with trembling hands he drew Gil tight against him once more. His heart thrashed within his ribcage so aggressively he did not doubt the light elf could feel it against his own chest. "Gil," he pleaded. "What am I going to do?"

"Jack…"

"If he wants me, I know I should feel honored. But… Who will I be, once he takes me? Will _this_," and he tightened his arms around the body atop him, "mean as much to me as it does right now? Will I be allowed to have it again?"

Gil lifted his head, a look of strong conviction filling those startlingly blue eyes. "Hear this now," he whispered, fiercely. "When he claims you, he will see that you were _mine_ first. And I do not intend to forfeit…" - he shifted over Jack, causing the human to cry out as their sexes played against each other - "…_this_, lightly. My soul mated with yours, as unconditionally as our bodies have done, and even dragons respect the absolution in that. You are mine, Jack Russell, do not doubt that."

Jack stared, feeling his heart leap for an entirely different reason. "Yours…?"

"Oh yes," Gil smiled. "As I am yours, ever _yours_."


	14. End War!

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Fourteen - End War!**

Early the next afternoon, Jack stared at the elder of the light elves. "You want me to, _what_?"

"Seek the aid of the orcs," Zane calmly repeated. Oblivious to Jack's distress, the elf lord went on, "I do not underestimate the human forces, and so I know it only wise to increase our own. JJ, leader of the green orcs, will at least listen to our plea, and that is all I am asking you to do in my stead."

Gil set a hand to Jack's shoulder, and Jack restrained himself from questioning the elf lord's judgment. Taking a slow breath, he asked, "Will I have to search him out on my own, or do you know where I might find him?"

Zane's eyes gleamed with much approval. "The green orcs are not so vicious as their blood orc cousins. JJ's people were ambushed, taken hostage. JJ himself and a few others escaped and sought refuge within our own lands. If you search the forests beyond our City of Flowers, I believe you will easily find where JJ is hiding."

"Must he travel there alone, my lord?" Gil asked this time.

"No," Zane shook his head, a kind expression on his face. "I know you are not yet as fully recovered as you would have us believe, Jack Russell. I would think no less of you if you deem it necessary to bring a few helping hands with you for this."

And so it was that Ganz Rothschild and the dark elf Clarence joined Gil and Jack on their new quest. His former captain surprised Jack to no end. It seemed his time amongst the bandits had honed Ganz's skills and given him the confidence that had only been in the background of his personality before. Clarence was somewhat wary of the new human, but quickly discovered they fought well together. They defended each other's backs almost effortlessly. And when there was no battle to be fought, they laughed and joked together like old friends.

"You are quiet," Gil commented at some point, while their companions led on. "Is the journey wearying on you?"

"No," Jack shook his head, his golden amber eyes fixed on the road ahead. "And it almost scares me when I stop to think about it. Yesterday, I could barely stand on my own feet. Today…"

"You and I both understand why today is so different from yesterday, _maerol_."

"Yeah," he shrugged, a flush of warmth creeping up under his collar at the many undertones of that statement. They walked a bit farther, but then something else caught his curiosity. "What was that word?"

"_Maerol_." The light elf's mouth tilted in that slow half-smile, "It means, _sweetling_."

Jack felt himself grow hotter. "Oh."

Gil chuckled softly, and when he looked Jack saw that those endlessly blue eyes held a shadow of the dark glint that had possessed them the night before. Gil lightly grasped Jack's wrist and leaned forth to whisper near Jack's ear, "I was intoxicated by your sweet taste the moment I first kissed you. Yours is a heady flavor, and I am unashamed to confess that my addiction to you holds me firmly under your sway."

"Gil…"

"As I declared last night," the light elf went on. "I am _yours_, to do with as you will. My soul is my gift to you."

"Handle with care?" Jack asked with a tremulous smile, though his heart was racing uncertainly.

Gil's soft laughter was his reward, and the light elf released his wrist and stood back. "I begin to think it unfair that I have had to wait so long for you…"

"Was I worth the wait?"

Something in Jack's voice must have registered, for Gil's expression turned suddenly serious. "Do not misunderstand me, Jack Russell. My obsession with you is not purely physical. I am continuously inspired by your skills in battle, your quick mind, your hesitant but strong heart… I no longer care to resist the way you draw me in."

"You're mine," Jack whispered in echo of last night's vow. And at last he felt he understood the depth of such a brazen declaration.

"Yes," the light elf affirmed as softly, as solemnly. "_Yours_, _maerol_."

~o~

Gil led along a path through a shallow stream which cut into a quiet green forest. Ganz made a sound of surprise as they entered amongst the first of the trees, and even Clarence seemed impressed that the forest had so well hidden JJ's large size. At Gil's silent command, the three hung back, while Jack stepped forward and offered a low bow to the green orc.

JJ reacted to Jack's very formal greeting with both apprehension and curiosity. "Why you here, human?"

Jack straightened and looked the creature in the eye. "I have a message from Zane."

"Zane? Oh, elf leader." The green orc tilted his head in further curiosity, "You human. Why have elf leader message?"

Jack did not truly know how to answer that, and so he said nothing, waiting.

JJ soon gave it up, asking instead, "Zane says what?"

"He wants your help in the upcoming war," he dutifully reported.

"We busy," the green orc shook his head. "We protect ourselves from blood orcs, we have no time helping others. But…" He paused, looking over Jack's shoulder to the three waiting in the background. "You know we be fighting humans. Yet you still ask for help?"

Jack sighed, having somehow known the issue would come up again. "I don't like to pit myself against my own people, but I know I will when the time comes. It's… difficult to explain."

"Oh, very hard," JJ nodded in complete agreement. "Not easy. There be no fighting if was easy. Maybe you different from other humans. So me help, but is condition."

"What condition?" Jack reluctantly wondered.

"Like me said, we have problem with blood orcs. Blood orcs kidnap my friends. Us too weak to do anything." He cocked his head to the side, "You help us?"

Jack had only recently learned that the blood orcs alone were not entirely responsible for Ridley's death. Blame for that rested solely upon Cross Ward. But that did not mean he was so ready to forgive the images that had been burned into the back of his mind, nor the grief that had been forced upon him.

With another sigh, he turned and looked over his shoulder. "Gil? Do you know the way into the blood orcs' territory?"

~o~

Borgandiazo was a great distance from the elflands, nearly a month's worth of travel. It lay in the Desnuef region, a dry wasteland which offered little in the hope for shelter or water. The skies overhead were a blackened grey, thick with storm clouds and thin twisters that touched ground only a mile or so away in any direction. The winds they threw were loud and howling, making conversation very difficult.

As they approached the rope which would lead down into the mouth of the caverns underground, Gil advised that all be ready to draw weapons if needed. Ganz and Clarence nodded that they understood, and Jack briefly touched a hand to _Jinn_'s hilt. They descended into the hole, and Jack humbly bade Gil to lead the way. Gil lifted his left hand high, letting it pulse with his magic and emit a soft glow so that the others knew where to follow.

It was a long journey through the cavernous tunnels as they ventured farther underground, for only the long-lived Gil knew where and when to turn. When finally they arrived, enough false light filled the area that the elf doused his magic and at last lowered his arm. Jack stepped forward. There were many blood orcs, all sitting around and shrieking at each other in a language only they understood. But eventually Jack and his companions were noticed by the largest of them all, and this one came crashing forward.

"Human," the creature bellowed. "Why you here?"

Jack tilted his head up and up, for this one was at least twice the size of JJ. "I'm looking for the leader of the blood orcs. Are you the leader?"

"Name Galvados," the orc answered, pounding a boulder-sized fist against his massive chest. "What you want?"

Thinking there was no harm in asking, and almost suspecting that this was what Zane was attempting anyway, Jack boldly stepped closer. "I have a message from the elder of the light elves. He says he wants your help in the upcoming war. Also," he added, "I need back the green orcs you kidnapped."

The other blood orcs grew quiet, obviously shocked that he would make such a demand. But Galvados threw back his head and gave a roaring laugh. "Ha! You look like you have problem, human. You not want our help?"

Jack looked at the creature, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "I'd much rather do without. But we need it."

Galvados laughed again, "You honest! Me be honest, too. We will never work for light elves. Green orcs our slaves!"

"…Fine," he responded, making as though to turn away. "Then that's what I'll tell them."

When the blood orc gave an angry growl, Jack threw Gil a quick glance. The light elf understood immediately, smoothly moving in front of their companions to prevent any interference.

"Wait!" Galvados bellowed, appearing not to have noticed the brief exchange. "You leave so soon? You come with foolish request. You have to pay!"

Jack swiftly pulled _Jinn_ from behind his back and whirled around, ducking low to avoid Galvados' giant club. The sudden attack alarmed Ganz, but Gil and even Clarence did well to hold him back. They quickly but quietly explained to him that this was the way of the blood orcs, to challenge as proof of their superior strength. Meanwhile, Jack proved swift on his feet. He was careful not to overdue it, doubting that his new strength was limitless, but was able to avoid every attack and even to counter with a few of his own. He endlessly dodged Galvados' massive force, his tactic to tire the blood orc out before dealing the stronger of his own attacks.

Several minutes later, Galvados backed away. The blood orc bore numerous cuts and nicks in his toughened hide, a good handful of which were bleeding freely. As for Jack, he had successfully avoided any serious damage, though he had been thrown to the cavern floor more than once. Gil seized him around the waist from behind and swiftly drew him back, wordlessly tipping Clarence's water skin into Jack's mouth. Jack gratefully accepted a large swallow then jerked his head to the side, spitting it out again.

He had _always_ hated the taste of a bloody mouth.

Galvados demanded their attention once more, his vengeful roar shaking the walls of the cave. "Me lose to a human! Why?"

"You want more?" Jack challenged, panting, leaning heavily against Gil's chest for support. He was truly in no shape for another round, but he knew he could not back down now.

The orc's eyes narrowed in loathing, but at last Galvados gave a grudging nod. "You stronger than me, human." He sighed, "Me work for you."

Jack blinked. "What?"

"It is the way of their kind," Gil softly explained near his ear. "To follow the will of the strongest. Galvados _was_ their strongest, and now you have defeated him."

"This our rule," the blood orc leader nodded again. "Me no like, but is rule. You want return of green orcs, we do this. We fight for elves, too. But we not slaves!" He suddenly insisted, "We decide own action. And… Me defeat you, someday. Me get back dignity of leader!"

Sighing, Jack nodded his acceptance of Galvados' vow. Having caught his breath, he stepped out of the circle of Gil's supporting arms and the four companions picked their way again through the tunnels.

When finally they emerged again to the surface, Jack moved a safe distance from the mouth of the cave and heaved a great sigh, the _Jinn_ slipping from his fingers. Gil was there immediately, catching the human in his arms a half-second before Jack's legs could give out from under him.

"Master Jack?"

"Don't worry," Clarence's voice answered Ganz's alarm, and the dark elf proceeded to give the tale of their friend's very recent recovery from a vengeful fever.

Grateful that he would not have to explain himself, Jack rested his forehead against Gil's shoulder and let the light elf guide him to a large boulder where they might sit together and rest. Gil sat with his back to the boulder and pulled Jack down with him. Jack settled himself between the light elf's legs, his back against Gil's chest, and Gil folded his arms around him and held him comfortably close. "Perhaps today is not _so_ different from yesterday," he mused idly.

Jack found that he still had strength enough to laugh. "There's always tomorrow…"

"Ah, tomorrow," Gil chuckled. "Tomorrow, we may yet see you spread your wings, and I would at last show you the poetic majesty of true flight."

Closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the light elf's shoulder, Jack felt his mouth tug in a wistful smirk. "They're only scars, Gil."

"But you would fly with me, _maerol_?"

"Yeah…"

~o~

JJ stared at their swift return. "A human… beat a blood orc…?"

Jack once again bowed low in greeting. Straightening, he wondered, "You're going to keep your promise, right?"

"Yes," JJ nodded. "Me no lie. Tell elf leader. We join you in battle."

Jack accepted the news and began to turn away, believing his errand down at last.

"Wait."

It was more in reflex than anything else that he turned back this time. JJ's coal black eyes were alight with good-humored curiosity. "You human. Yet you fight with nonhumans. Why? You know we kill humans."

"And the humans will kill the fairy creatures," Jack quietly accepted. "The misfortunes of war. But _I'm_ not fighting a war. I'm fighting to _end_ it."

JJ gave a hearty laugh, "Yes, to end it! Me like you! You tell us when you need help. We fight for us and for you. Me want to see if you end war!"


	15. Help It Along

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Chapter Fifteen - Help It Along**

Another handful of weeks passed, somewhat uneventfully. It was enough to fray Jack's nerves. He knew something significant must unfold, knew that _he_ would be in the center of it, and he knew the time for it was drawing near.

His coloring during that time had altered again. His skin now was just a hint darker, from golden to bronze. The brown of his hair by then had gone completely blond, the color of crushed ice. And his eyes were another shade lighter, like ale held up before candlelight.

Jack could not hide his unease from Gil. The light elf was a comforting presence, never offering meaningless words, but he seemed always to know when to touch a hand to Jack's shoulder or to simply take Jack into his arms. He came every night to Jack's door, and they would cling to one another in wakeful silence as often as explore each other's bodies.

The orcs arrived at one point, both the blood and the green. JJ and Galvados camped with their own small armies in the fields across the road. At first, they were roaring loud insults and threats to each other. But then they finally agreed that they were both doing a favor for Lord Zane and "the human that fights like a smilodon," and the next thing everyone knew those two were loudly celebrating their alliance and singing orc battle-hymns.

Though Jack was expecting a change in the winds, he most definitely had _not_ expected the human armies to suddenly appear one morning and ambush the fort. Even with the orcs to defend them, the surprise attack worked to the humans' advantage. Gil's sense of duty forced him to defend Lord Zane, which left Jack free to fight any knights that dared challenge him.

Somewhere in the midst of the confusion, however, a familiar and hated laughter broke through. "We meet again… Jack!"

He felled his opponent and whirled around. "_Cross!_"

The dark knight strode calmly forward, ignoring the battle around them. Jack watched his approach with growing loathing as he recalled everything this one had done to upset the balance in his life - Ridley's death, Parsec's death, Adele's capture… Jack tightened his fist around _Jinn_'s grip to still his shaking hand.

Cross' mouth twisted in a snakelike sneer. "Tell me," he mocked with a pointed look toward Jack's leg. "How's that wound I gave you? Healed yet?"

With a loud and vengeful cry, Jack leapt forward to attack. Theirs was a swift battle, far different from the one in Fire Mountain. Then, Jack had been suffering from a lingering fever. _Now_, however, Jack had recovered every bit of his strength, and then some. He was more than Cross' equal, in both speed and skill. But Cross Ward was no novice, himself. Whenever it appeared one had the upper hand, the other would twist out of the way and turn the tables again. Neither seemed able to scratch the other with his weapon, and yet both began to tire with their exertions. But it finally seemed to have come to an unlucky end, when Cross managed to force Jack to give ground. The _Jinn_ was knocked out of Jack's fist, and he stumbled back. Cross made ready to deal the final blow. At the very last instant a light elf appeared out of nowhere, leaping into the path of Cross' blade.

Jack stared at the tip of the blade protruding from Gil's back, soaked with vivid red blood. The elf flinched with a grunt of pain as Cross jerked his blade free, and Jack leapt to his feet and caught Gil against his chest, the both of them sinking to their knees as Gil gave in to the depth of the pain coursing through him.

Cross jumped back as a thin tendril of lightning struck at his feet, and he lifted his sword to deflect a fireball. Jack turned his head, staring as Shin and Mikey raced passed, chasing the dark knight across the battlefield.

"_M-maerol_…"

His heart missing a beat, Jack looked down at the elf in his arms. Gil's breathing had grown ragged and his grass-woven clothes were already soaked with his blood, which was spilling freely from both his chest and his back. His lips were parted slightly, and some small amount of blood was trickling from the side of his mouth. His eyes were closed.

Panicking, Jack pleaded, "Look at me!"

Those startlingly blue eyes blinked open, and with a terrible sense of déjà vu Jack noted that they had clouded over. Gil's mouth tugged in a weak smile, and he dragged in a rasping breath. "_Mine_," he breathed.

"Yes," Jack fiercely agreed. "_Yours_."

Those eyes closed again, but Gil's small smile lingered. His chest did not move to draw in another breath. The next instant, his body disappeared in a silent explosion of soft light - light which came together into a bright yellow orb and drifted up into the air. It hovered a moment at eye-level with Jack's ale-golden gaze, as though reluctant to leave this world, but then shot up into the sky and vanished beyond the clouds.

The last proof of Gil's existence was the cooling blood that trailed down Jack's arms and soaked the front of his armor.

~o~

Jack Russell did not stay to see the end of the battle for Fort Helencia. He only lingered long enough to retrieve _Jinn_ and his satchel of remedies, and then he pointed his feet southward and started walking. It was perhaps only an hour or so before his absence was discovered, however, and he was soon joined by the dark elves Clarence and Mikey, the light elf Shin, and both Gawain and Ganz Rothschild.

Jack felt it wrong to let them journey with him to his current destination, but he did not have the heart to turn them away.

The first stream he found, Jack did not permit himself to ignore. Though he was not thirsty, and though their water skins were filled, he knew he could not go one step farther. The three elves herded Ganz and Gawain some distance away, allowing Jack his privacy. He silently thanked their perceptive understanding - nothing ever long escaped an elf's notice.

He stared down at himself, much grief and sorrow weighing heavily in his soul to see the evidence of his greatest loss. Slowly, heartsick with each movement, he shed his armor and set it carefully aside. By the time he stepped naked into the stream, his eyes were stinging and his cheeks were already wet with his tears. He waded forth until the water came up to his waist. Tossing his head back, he cast his ale-golden gaze toward the canopy of the surrounding trees and with all the pain in his heart wondered at how his life had come full-circle.

He had left Radiata, because something in his soul had demanded it done. He had planted his feet firmly in the elflands, because his instincts had whispered that he would be needed there. Jack now knew that it was the greater soul within his own that had demanded he uproot his own life and venture where the rift between the humans and the fairy creatures was widest. And he now understood that all along it was Gil who had been awaiting his arrival, who had needed his forgiveness, and the sense of connection that only they two could discover…

_Even if you know it's not forever, you should never regret having loved someone._

His own words, when Mikey had asked whether he believed in the wisdom of a long-ago elf king.

With a sharply indrawn breath, Jack lowered his head. He cupped his hand under the surface of the water, bringing it up again and dripping clean rivulets between closed fingers, and he sipped the tiny puddle from his palm. Sighing, sending a fervent prayer that a certain soul could hear its _maerol_'s apology, he cupped another handful of water and began scrubbing the dried blood from his skin.

His heart mourned. His skin, his muscles, even his bones ached. Losing Ridley had been a dark chapter in his life, that was and would always be true. But he had had the beginnings of something words had not the power to describe with Gil, and Jack suddenly felt insignificant and incomplete without him.

Carefully, painfully, he washed in the stream until the ripples closest to him were dirtied red with Gil's blood. He swept both hands across the surface of the water, breaking away the last of that hurtful evidence, and he could not halt the lump in his throat at watching it go. Suddenly he threw his arms wide and fell backward into the water. The resulting spray that flew up as he broke the surface was only a gurgling hum to his ears as he sank for the one moment it took for the natural buoyancy of a human body to drag him back up again.

Anchoring his feet once more he pushed up and gave his head a vigorous shake, never minding the drops that flew from his white-blond hair. Scrubbing his hands against his face, Jack heaved another sigh and turned away. He at last came out of the water and began donning his armor. The brown leather leotard, the bronze pieces, and the purple tunic each still bore a small trace of Gil's blood - the tunic's front, especially, had nearly been soaked through with it. But he left it. It was a solemn reminder, and one he did not particularly want forgotten.

When he returned to his five companions, they knew not to ask any questions, and he offered no explanation. Ganz and Gawain looked at him with vague sympathy, the kind any fellow warrior would give if one had lost a comrade. But the three elves let show all their understanding in one glance, and then each let it be.

They traveled long and far, much farther than he had ever ventured. Jack made use of his memory of Gil's many forest trails, and after they had entered the first of the southern regions Mikey lent his knowledge as well. They wandered the Adien and Septem regions, and Jack was introduced to the desert wasteland that lay beyond. The wild creatures they encountered were many - and _large_ - but, oddly, very few challenged their trespass.

Jack knew the reason. It made him only a trifle uneasy that the greater soul awakening inside his own was so easily recognized.

And so it was that they at last approached the end of the world, the very horizon where day met night, where the moon cast its soft glow upon their faces while the sun still shone strongly behind their backs. The precipice of fate. Even as his companions all stared at the endless abyss before them, Jack glanced up in time to glimpse a dark shadow flying high over their heads.

"Aphelion…"

His companions all turned to stare at him, more than one of them recognizing the name of the Silver dragon. Finally, Clarence wondered, "What'll we do?"

"You will turn and fight, cretins!"

All whirled around to find Cross Ward, with a handful of knights, racing across the plains in their direction. Jack did not spare the mental muscle it would have taken to wonder at how the dark knight had managed to follow them all this way without giving himself away. "Gawain," he requested instead. "Can you distract them?"

"Gladly," the man assured, thumping the pole of his giant mace to the ground in anticipation of battle.

"As will I," Ganz declared, readying his sword.

Gawain gave a hearty laugh, "Yes! Two former captains should be more than enough for the likes of them!"

Nodding his gratitude, Jack and three elves turned and raced toward the floating labyrinth which hovered over the endless abyss. They together navigated its twists and turns, and eventually succeeded in climbing up to the tower that awaited at the very top. Jack paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I know you know what I'm about to do," he said. "But I'd rather you didn't witness it. Any minute now, Aphelion will arrive, if he hasn't already. He's going to try to stop me."

"We'll cut him off. We'll buy you all the time we can," Clarence readily offered, and behind him Mikey and Shin nodded in agreement.

"Don't sacrifice yourselves for this," Jack softly insisted. "And don't follow after me until I return, no matter what you hear."

Each elf gave his word, and Jack entered the tower alone. He ascended the spiraling stairs, silently taking _Jinn_ into his fist. He had not wanted his companions to endanger themselves for his sake, and so he did not tell them what he knew already. When he found the Silver dragon waiting for him on the roof of the tower, he was ready. He deflected Aphelion's blast of black energy, his body following his ethereal blade in a complex dance it knew by heart. He swiftly circled Aphelion, letting his feet draw him steadily closer until at last opportunity presented itself and he thrust _Jinn_ deep into the Silver dragon's back, dragging it down Aphelion's spine even as the creature roared its last.

Aphelion stumbled back and fell over the ledge of the roof, and would continue to fall forever, for the abyss below did not promise a bottom. Jack's fist tightened around the _Jinn_'s grip, and he turned around, unsurprised to discover that he had an audience.

The Golden dragon, a glittering soul without a solid body, gazed back at him with eternally calm ale-golden eyes.

Sighing, Jack sank to his knee and bowed his head. "I know you've come to restore balance to the world. And I do not resist your will. But you must first understand something," he added, lifting his head to daringly challenge the great beast with his eyes. "I am not _yours_."

The Golden dragon watched him silently, his translucent scales glimmering, his talons soundlessly clawing at the stone roof.

"You know what I want," Jack solemnly pleaded. "Take me, make use of your vessel. But give me this one favor in return. I beg of you."

Quasar, the Golden dragon, closed his ale-golden eyes and dipped his head, glowing brightly with light that rivaled the sun. Closing his own eyes, Jack lowered his head and awaited the union. In the next instant he let out a sharp gasp as the greater soul within his own came alive at last with a burst of warmth that trickled along his veins and caused his skin to tingle pleasantly.

It was done. The Golden dragon had received its vessel.

"_Maerol_."

His head jerked up, his eyes flew open, and his heart missed a beat. Pushing unsteadily to his feet, Jack slowly turned around. Startlingly blue eyes and a quirky half-smile filled his vision for one moment, and then two hands wove their fingers into his hair and his mouth was plundered by a most enthusiastic tongue. His body grew hot in instant recognition, and blindly he clutched the other against him. He both heard and felt the other growl in approval, and his mouth was further ravaged.

Several seconds passed before they broke for air; the hands gripping his head released him, and the other stepped from the circle of Jack's arms. Jack opened his eyes, his heart racing a mile a minute even as he felt his mouth tug in a slow smile. "Gil."

The light elf smirked, and his bluer-than-blue eyes gave Jack a very pointed once-over. Blinking, Jack looked down at himself. And stared. His old armor had vanished, replaced by a full-body armor that seemed forged of golden dragon's scales, over which was a dark yellow tabard, tied together at the waist by an even darker-yellow sash.

"I wonder if I should address you as 'milord'…"

"Don't you dare," Jack muttered, looking up again. And his mouth tugged in another grin. "Anyway, I don't think you have room to talk."

Quirking a slim silver eyebrow, Gil glanced down at the change of his own attire. He was garbed in blue hosen, soft leather boots of a dark black color which strapped up toward his knees, and a sleeveless tunic that was so dark a blue it could almost be mistaken for black, but which was lined with thick threads of gold. Upon the breast of his tunic was woven a small golden dragon, curled up as though in slumber. A thin woven belt of black leather, and thick black leather wristbands, completed his apparel.

The light elf gave a soft chuckle, "Such lengths, _maerol_. What was it you said to him?"

"Only what you said to me," Jack shrugged. "That I was yours first, and that I wanted what was mine."

Gil's eyes widened for a moment in the face of his frank honesty, but then they darkened with possessive approval.

The next instant, however, the tower rumbled loudly beneath their feet, and Jack knew instinctively that they were overstaying their welcome. "Come on," he urged, turning and leading toward the stairs. "This place is about to give any second, and our friends are still waiting for us at the bottom."

~o~

And so it was that the tower of knowledge was toppled at last. Jack and Gil rejoined the three other elves, who each marveled at the miracle of Gil's resurrection, and together all escaped the crumbling labyrinth before they could fall into the endless abyss.

Ganz and Gawain had succeeded in their campaign - though not, it seemed, without a heavy price. Gawain Rothschild's life had been forfeited, but it was quite obvious that he had not fallen without taking nearly all of Cross Ward's brigade with him. And Ganz had seen fit to avenge his father by finishing the job. The last two knights of the human brigade had been severely injured, and Cross himself lay mortally wounded. When Jack offered to aid his former captain in their escape, Ganz Rothschild only gave a very saddened look and shook his head. He knew he would die from his own injuries, and he would rather do so by his fallen father's side. So Jack solemnly bade the man a final farewell, and together with the four elves he reentered the world.

~o~

The first night of their return journey, Jack felt an unusual awkwardness. As though all the confidence that had nudged him toward the end of the world had suddenly vanished. He awoke in the middle of the night and, uncomfortable with his own feelings of ineptitude, he stood up and paced away from their camp. He wandered idly among the nearby trees, but found he could not long keep away. The very thing he wanted, that his heart ached for, that he had demanded returned to him, was back at their camp. And he could not tear himself away from that hard-won prize for even a moment and still remain whole.

So he returned to their camp and lay down again at Gil's side. He felt the light elf's hand upon his shoulder, and he succumbed to his lover's gentle tug, rolling to his other side to face him. Gil's bluer-than-blue eyes held nothing but eternal understanding as he thumbed the tears from Jack's cheeks, and the light elf drew him into his solid embrace. "I am here, _maerol_," he whispered gruffly. "You need not fear I will disappear before the morning."

A sob tore from Jack's throat, and his hands came up between them, clutching the front of Gil's tunic and clinging tightly. All that night, Gil cradled him closely in his arms. He held Jack as he wept, and he held him after he had done weeping. He let his lover take every comfort in the warmth and strength of his presence. When at last Jack fell asleep again, the light elf breathed a silent sigh of relief and kissed the top of his head. "Yes, _maerol_," he murmured, finally allowing himself to follow into slumber. "_Yours_."

~o~

Their return to Fort Helencia caused quite a stir. The nonhumans had defended it well, it seemed, with very few losses. Everyone welcomed Jack and his companions, and even Lord Zane greeted Jack with much praise and honor. But it was not long before Jack felt restless again, and this time he decided to take the initiative. Barely two weeks after they had returned, Gil and he left Fort Helencia once more.

Jack took the most direct route there was, following the road south from the fort and by the next night they were standing before Radiata City's Faucon gate. Though he knew this part of the city belonged to the Void Community, and that its bandits would undoubtedly recognize him as a friend to one of their own, Jack would not risk so early a discovery of his presence. He lightly took hold of Gil's wrist, and by just a trickle of the power that now ran through his veins he caused their forms to be intangible - invisible to human eyes - until such time as he saw fit.

Gil raised a slim silver eyebrow at this small show of his new abilities, but said nothing.

Jack led through the city, bypassing one set of crossroads for another, slipping along a small alley or two, until they came upon the surrounding path of the castle itself. They entered through the side door, finding themselves in the recruitment lobby. Here, Jack paused. His eyes studied one of the men working at the desk, remembering that he had been nothing but kindness itself during Jack's brief stay as a new recruit. Stepping forth, he gently touched a hand to the man's shoulder. The man gave a quiet yawn, folded his arms over the countless papers through which he had been perusing, and then rested his head atop his arms and fell asleep.

This time Gil could not resist. "Why?"

"He'd always managed a smile for me," Jack answered as softly. "And I don't think he ever had a moment for himself. Tomorrow, he'll return home to his family, and he'll never have to give up his nights to this again."

The light elf smiled, and together they passed on through the lobby and into the castle itself. Having briefly been a knight himself, Jack knew the patterned routes of those that patrolled the halls. He led safely through the castle and up three flights of stairs, steering their path to the right. He counted out a number of doors, finally pausing before the one he wanted. The door had obviously been locked against intruders, and yet Jack turned the knob and let Gil and himself into the room beyond. When it closed behind them, it locked itself again with a soft click. Jack made Gil and himself solid and visible again, and then spared a moment to look around.

The room was kept rather simply in comparison to the rest of the castle, only furnished with a desk and chair, another chair for a guest, and a couple of bookshelves lining the walls. There was another closed door to the side of the desk. Jack pointed a finger to it, and a bright golden light filled the room beyond it and spilled out from under the door. A man's voice gave a startled shout, and Jack doused his magic as the Prime Minister stumbled out into his own office. The man stared, quite stunned to find he had visitors.

"Lord Larks," Jack respectfully intoned, bowing at the waist in greeting. Behind him, Gil sank to one knee and lowered his head.

The man blinked, "Jack Russell, can that be you? I almost didn't recognize you. And an elf too, I see," he added, taking Gil's presence in stride. "But what brings you here? The whole of Radiata know you as enemies; the risk alone…"

"My lord," Jack began. "You believed in me from the very beginning, didn't you."

The older blond paused a moment, but then gave an easy smile. "Yes, I most certainly did. You showed such potential, I was most saddened to see you leave the castle."

"You tried to fight for us, then."

"I did," Larks nodded, his smile faltering. "But I was overruled. The Lord Chamberlain played the knights' charter, my own rules, against me. And I could not act against them. I _am_ sorry, my boy." A brief silence fell over the room, until the man could no longer contain his curiosity. "Why have you come? Is it your plan now to take a hostage?"

Though he knew the question had been asked in good humor, Jack seriously shook his head. "No. We're emissaries for the fairy creatures." (Still kneeling on the floor, Gil gave a slow smile of dawning realization, but he remained silent.) "They do not like to admit it, but we have suffered many losses in this war as well. We are still greatly disheartened over the loss of our dwarven friends; we don't wish to see yet another of our races be so violently removed from this world."

"In short," Gil finally spoke up, his eyes and his head still lowered. "Ours is a plea to end this war."

Larks looked from one to the other, his dark blue eyes taking them both in, but then he sighed. "I'm afraid this is a request better brought before the king, young Jack."

Jack's ale-golden eyes narrowed. "That's why we came to you." He paused, "Your Majesty."

Gil's calm façade was broken at last, and he lifted his head to stare at his lover.

After a long moment, Larks' mouth broke out in a wide smile, and he gave a soft chuckle. "What was it that gave me away?"

"Your masquerade is very complete," Jack assured. "Jiorus and his family are convincing enough decoys. But I see so much more now that might have blinded me before, and I know you for who you are. Your Majesty, your people and mine call for peace. Is there no hope at all?"

The man sighed, nodding and motioning Jack toward the second chair before his desk. Gils fluidly rose to his feet, coming forth to stand behind his lover's chair. "I believe the time for hope has been long in coming," Larks agreed. "Let us together discover what we might do to help it along."


	16. Epilogue -- The Golden Dragon

**Title:** Last Dance of Chances

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Radiata Stories

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

**Warning(s):** Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

**Pairing(s):** Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

**Reviews:** Yes, please.

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with _this_ one!

**Teaser:** What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

**Epilogue - The Golden Dragon**

A few months later, it became clear that a new age was dawning. The war had ended, the peace was growing ever stronger, and the infamous tower of knowledge had crumbled into the abyss.

Jack slowly followed Gil along the last rope bridge into the center of Wind Valley. The light elf had convinced him to venture into this forbidden territory, despite that it felt like trespassing into the home of a deceased family member, and one he had not even truly met.

The cliffs were exactly as he had envisioned in his dreams, surrounded by a thin layer of fog which blanketed the green valley far below. The largest cliff of all was domed by swirling clouds, and the skies beyond were a soft blend of blue and dusk-violet. Jack stood on the very center, watching the clouds slowly spin around him, and his heart echoed a sense of the guilt he had felt in his dreams. "I'm sorry, Gil…"

A pair of arms curled around his stomach from behind, and the light elf rested his chin atop Jack's shoulder. "Why?" Gil whispered near his ear. "You did not do this."

"I know…"

"Remember and have faith in Lord Parsec's words. _'When the end comes, the four dragons will reawaken and live again'_." Gil paused, lifting his head away to cast his gaze toward the whirling clouds. "Here we stand, and as one era ends, another begins. In another century or two, we may yet see dragons again."

"But they won't all return, will they?"

"What do you mean?"

Sighing, Jack stepped out of the circle of Gil's arms and stared up toward the heavens. "The dwarves have died out, Gil. Their race is ended. Someday, the humans will forget what they'd done; they'll swarm that valley and make it their own. Why should the Earth dragon return, when all that he once protected is lost forever…?"

A brief silence greeted his words. Then Jack felt a familiar touch grasp his wrist, and Gil turned him around to meet his startlingly blue gaze. "Is that what you believe? Oh, _maerol_, for all the wisdom and power you have been granted, you can still be mind-bogglingly human." He lifted his other hand, tunneling his fingers in Jack's white-blond hair and clutching the back of Jack's head, tugging him forth. "Quasar is reborn in you. So long as you live - and you will live for quite some time - the dragons will have reason to return."

Jack tipped his forehead against Gil's, sharing his breath in a way that was both intimate and comforting. "Gil," he suddenly remembered. "Am I truly the same as before? Am I… _me_?"

"You are who you have always been," the light elf fervently assured. "Your power is your own. Quasar only manifested the strength of your heart into physical form."

"So… I'm still your _maerol_," Jack wondered. "Still _yours_?"

With a low growl Gil laid claim to Jack's mouth. He was not gentle, but hungry and insistent, his tongue invading the caverns of that mouth in heated reminder of how savagely he had taken Jack on that first night. Then he sucked at Jack's tongue, inviting it out to play, and he twisted it around his own in a dance of mutual seduction.

Gil finally released Jack with another, more frustrated growl. "Do you not see?" He rasped, his bluer-than-blue eyes clouded and intense. "Your sweet taste is still potent… still intoxicating as ever. You are _mine_, _maerol_. Quasar himself has not the power to slake my thirst for you."

Jack's ale-golden eyes suddenly flashed with mischief, and he swiftly backed himself several paces away. Gil blinked, momentarily bewildered, and then his eyes widened as golden light erupted from behind Jack's back and molded into glitteringly luminescent wings. And Jack's mouth curled in a slow smirk. "Come and get me, then," he challenged.

Half a breath's time passed before the heat in Gil's veins overrode his shock, and he gave a half-smile in anticipation. When Jack suddenly leapt into the air, Gil readily gave chase. And all at once the light elf recalled a moment of rest, and a wistful promise.

"_Tomorrow, we may yet see you spread your wings, and I would at last show you the poetic majesty of true flight."_

"_They're only scars, Gil."_

"_But you would fly with me, _maerol_?"_

"_Yeah…"_

A soft chuckle escaped his throat as Jack disappeared beyond the dome of clouds, and Gil shot off to the left, successfully cutting into the other's path. They collided, both laughing aloud as they tumbled in the air. Gil quickly stole a kiss. "Have I caught you yet, _maerol_?"

"Not even close," Jack laughed, and with a pulse of magic freed himself again from the circle of Gil's arms.

The light elf watched his _maerol_, his sweetling, in obvious enjoyment of the newfound freedom that had at last been bestowed upon him. Gil knew all too well that it had been long overdue. At last, Jack Russell was no longer beaten down by grief nor guilt; at last he need not fight another's battle. He had found peace within himself and could finally become the confident and carefree soul he was destined to be.

Yes, as vessel of the Golden dragon he would often need to respond to the world's call for balance and protection. Yet he would no longer feel cornered by fate, but empowered by it. And now, due to one human's daring wish, Gil would be allowed forever to witness it. It was the role Quasar himself had bestowed upon him when the light elf's soul and body had been restored - to eternally stand at Jack's side, and forever claim that right as the new Golden dragon's soul mate.

"What's the matter, Gil," Jack suddenly called across the distance. "Too fast for you?"

Shaking his head with a low chuckle, Gil fed more speed into his flight and took up the chase once more.

Hail, the Golden dragon…


End file.
